Dear Citibank,

A few years ago, when we first met, you were a whole different credit card. You were slimmer for one . It's not fair to play on your self esteem, but it has to be said. When I first saw you, you into a slim size 7%. And you promised it wasn't going to be an introductory thing either. Now, let's be honest. It wasn't love at first sight, or a made in heaven or anything of the sort. I just happened to be in the for a credit card and you came as being very available. A little too available, come to think of it. Looking back, I wish I'd been a little bit more . I could have saved myself a lot of trouble and heartbreak.

Fast one year--you and I had been on a few dates, and I took you out to some nice dinners. I honestly wasn't too surprised when you wrote me and that you were now a size 10%. As far as I was concerned it was no big deal and I remember taking it in . Really, I wasn't in the least out. After all, I kept you around mainly to make me look in front of the other credit providers. Besides, even at 10% you were only costing me a couple bucks a month.

Then, last year, the crisis . You and I had been on one or two dates the year before and things seemed to be going really well. So when the shit started hitting the I thought maybe you'd come by, tell me you still loved me, lend a shoulder for me to cry on, maybe even lose some weight. After all, I had never forgotten our anniversary, not once, even though it seemed to move around from month to month. That was a little bit , by the way, kind of as if you were trying to make me forget. Anyway, you come by eventually, but not to praise my loyalty or punctuality. No, the reason you came by was to let me know that you were now a size 20%.