It's not you, it's me (an open letter to Strava)

Dear Strava,

Let me say that before I met you, I had heard about you from our friends, and I wanted to meet you. You seemed too good to be true and I had to find out for myself. Everything I had heard made me excited to get to know you. When we met it was magical. Love at first sight. You were good for me. You encouraged me to ride my bike. After a ride you would brag to everyone and you made me feel like a king. I was a King I was King of your Mountains. The sex was amazing. My friends and people I didn't know were giving me kudos. I was on top of the world. You put me on top of leaderboards with people I knew and total strangers. We were a team, I was your champion and you my cheerleader.

Then you started to withhold things from me, and wanted me to pay for "it". This should have been a red flag, but I was so into you, and you were great for me. Then you started talking about other guys and how good they were. This was rough at first but it motivated me to do better to be better for you to win for you. Then you started telling me that other guys were your King, and this truly hurt me to the core, but I found motivation out of it and worked harder. This is where it all went wrong. It's not you, I got weird, I started acting different. I would go for a nice ride and I would only think about you and what you would think and all of the other guys in your life. It made me angry it turned me into a Strav-A-hole.

My darkest days were in the saddle riding with the taste of blood in my mouth -just to prove my love to you. I had enslaved myself to your opinion of me and of the others. I no longer rode my bike for me. I had you in the back of my mind telling me that someone was better and they were your King, not me. I was crushed and I rode with a black heart, my passion was no longer pure. Rage flowed through my veins and clouded my peace and serenity. The love was gone. I became a monster, a slave, an idiot to an ideal that I could not achieve.

We had some great times, some crazy times, and I do love you, but I am not me. Not the me that I need to be. I wish I was a stronger person and could handle your lifestyle, but I am not, and I do not like the person I have become when I was with you. I have to leave you so that I can re-find myself.

With love,
Glenn-Duh

P.S. I have all your stuff in a box, just text me when you can come pick it up, and can I have my key back?