A love letter to Helen's Roast Beef & Pizzeria

Dear Helen,

Not a day goes by when I don't think of you. How could you leave without saying goodbye, leaving nothing but a note?

I know our relationship wasn't perfect--there was the night I cheated on you with Pizza Days, and I'll never forgive myself for that. It was getting late, and I was getting desperate. I hope that isn't why you left.

Helen, I don't want to startle you, but I think you're the love of my life.

You've always been there for me, on my best nights and more importantly, on my worst. When I got turned away from the Burren, you were there for me. When there was nothing to do on the weekends, you were there for me, at 8:30 pm, without judgement. When I was inappropriately drunk at a Tufts Daily party, you helped me sober up. You're always there for me, with the warm embrace of a bluezone.

Oh, how I miss you voluptuous bluezones, dripping in grease and blue cheese, heavy with luscious buffalo chicken, dipped in even more blue cheese. Maybe it sounds gross to everyone else, but no one understands the kind of love we had, Helen.

I need you back in my life, Helen. Tufts just isn't the same without you. I'll even try your roast beef--your famous roast beef--whatever it takes.

Just know that if you decide to come back, I'll be here, waiting for you. Just like I waited an hour and a half when I ordered a buffalo chicken pizza last semester, even though you said it'd take "uhhhh like 45 minutes," I'll wait for you, forever if I have to.

All my love,