Breaking up is hard to do. However, in this case, I found it was necessary. You see, like many of you, I have fallen on the hamster wheel of the 24-hour news cycle and can’t seem to get up.

I can take solace in the fact that I’m not alone. According to Variety, Fox News, CNN and MSNBC are all posting significant growth in viewership. How does this correlate with the rising trend of breaking news? In the current chaos of an unrelenting news cycle, cable outlets like MSNBC have continued to shift their model more towards a breaking news style format.

Well, I’m saying enough is enough. As therapeutic measure for my “it’s complicated” relationship with breaking news, I’ve decided to write a “Dear John” letter to one of my most beloved television hosts and the woman leading the charge – Rachel Maddow.

Dearest Rachel,

I can’t be with you anymore. I need to let you go. I’m sorry but it’s you, not me.

My pre-sleep ritual of watching your nightly 20-minute monologue is killing me. Yes, you are insightful. Yes, you are talented. Yes, you are funny. Yes, I love your all-black ensemble. And, you’d get along great with my mom. Those are all qualities I look for in a platonic relationship.  But, when I close my eyes, all I see are the letters TRMS, repeatedly. Make it stop.

To make you feel any better, it’s not just you – I’m already not on speaking terms with Anderson.  And don’t get me started about the barrage of text messages from Wolf. And how many cookie baskets can one person consume, Mr. Tapper? I mean, really!

I think you’re catching my drift. The constant influx of breaking news is wearing me down. There’s streaming video on my work computer. My phone beeps news updates that I must click on as soon as they appear. My kids have started hiding the TV remote for fear for my well-being.

Why… Why… Why do you have to be so good? When you shuffle your papers, the noise is like a symphony to my ears. 

When you were sick a few months ago, and missed a whole week, I rationalized that it was a sign.  A sign for me to wean myself off The Maddow. But that was a pipe dream. I wasn’t ready to quit you.

But I’ve been thinking… What if you help me stop? I mean, this obsession is kind of your fault.  Maybe if you just report on a kitten being rescued from a tree or a woman who’s turned 120 because she eats yogurt three times a day, it will break this debilitating cycle. Or talk about a new recipe for borscht soup that you made over the weekend. Wait… borscht is too close… forget that.

Ugh, what to do?

One more thing… Where did you buy those glasses? I need a pair. Do you think I’d look good in them? Can you accompany me while I go to purchase them and fill my head with your sweet siren song?

And the cycle starts up again…