An Emotional Letter To Toblerone

I thought I could count on you, Toblerone. I guess I was wrong.

Dear Toblerone,

Big day, huh? On the historic occasion of the 2016 election, I expected to be hit with jitters over the fate of our country. I expected to stay up late, waiting for the results to roll in while drinking a lot of beer and compulsively checking Twitter. However, I never expected this. On this day, of all days, how could you turn on me?

Sure, change is good when it comes to the positive momentum of a country moving forward, but not when it comes to the shape of a Toblerone. Yeah, I saw what you did there. While we all had our eyes glued to the debate screen, you were quietly removing 40 grams of chocolate from your traditional, wonderfully heavy milk chocolate bars. Not only that, but you shrunk down your beloved chocolate triangles until they were almost unrecognizable, forming an unpleasantly large gap between each milky peak. You've destroyed the (albeit frankly incredibly hard to chew) goodness of the original bar shape, and I am outraged.

You have your reasons, you say. You muttered something about making the bars lighter and more affordable, but let's get real. You're not lowering the price of your beloved bars; you're just giving us less chocolate in a far inferior shape. No longer can I stroll down the street holding a spiked chocolate bar bulky enough to be used as a weapon. No longer can I nearly chip a tooth while attempting to bite into your thick, Everest-like triangle peaks with fervor. Instead, I'm left with a deformed, weak version of the treat I (used to) know and love.

For years, you have been my airplane chocolate of choice. Although I can't explain it, I've always been drawn to you while dragging my suitcase through the airport. Something about your massive, impressive presence makes you the perfect last-minute Hudson News gift for loved ones back home. But no more. You've gone behind my back and turned into something I no longer recognize, and I'm shattered.

In a time of uncertainty, I thought I could depend on you, but your new, vast gaps only let me down. After today, things will just never be the same.