Sweet Green, look. I know this might seem fast.
After all, we’ve only been together for a year. When I first moved to Brooklyn, the ‘Spring’ sign was illuminated over the door of your Williamsburg location. I remember liking your exposed brick aesthetic. I thought I’d pop in for a quick meal with a friend.
Little did I know what was about to unfold.
Things moved quickly between us both, Sweet Green. What started with an innocent Kale Caesar spiraled quickly into something much more. Before I knew it, I was visiting you twice a day – picking up Guac Greens at lunchtime and a Harvest Bowl on my way home.
Your family members got to know and love me. The Monday morning staff held my tomatoes. On Fridays I’d get an extra slice of bread. It was only bliss and magic back in those days. It felt like nothing could possibly go wrong.
Before long, my friends knew everything about you. I brought my roommates over to meet you. I ordered OMG Omegas to my work. Everyone adored you like I did. How could they not? You were perfection in the form of leafy greens.
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever again feel as healthy as I did in the year I first discovered you. Through every bump in the road, you had my back. You soothed my Monday morning blues with Portobello. You spiced my Sunday evenings up with Rad Thai. You were an adventure that it seemed would never end that year, Sweet Green. I thought the sunny days would go on forever.
But alas, change reared its ugly head.
Distance will soon be ripping us apart, my dear Sweet Green. You, with your leaves in New York City. Me, with my roots still far away. In but a month’s time I’ll be relocating to Toronto indefinitely. And if I’m being honest, I can barely handle the thought of a life without you in it.
So here’s my proposition to you Sweet Green – come with me. Take your leafy business over the wall.
I know it’s fast. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s not the life you ever pictured for yourself.
But you’re the salad shop that Canada deserves.
You, with your fresh Guacamole. You, with your almonds sliced so fine. You’re the café that I want to wander into every noontime for the rest of my life. Tim Hortons and Wendy’s be damned.
So please, Sweet Green, say you’ll come with me.
Say you’ll move your business over the border and grow old with upon the shores of Lake Ontario. Say you won’t let this blissful time we’ve spent together come to an end.
I’m just a girl standing in front of a Sweet Green, asking it to follow her to Toronto.
Because I’m just not ready to leave your Kale Caesars in the past.