As of this moment (the date of this posting), it has been exactly 1,879 days since I last had a Coca-Cola. That is 5 years, 1 month, and 22 days; or 28 weeks and 3 days; or 45,069 hours; or 2,705,760 minutes; or 162,345,600 seconds. It’s been a long time.

On New Year’s Eve, 2008, I made the decision to have my last Coke ever. I had tried to quit before and I made it a year. Unfortunately, the reward I gave myself for going a full year was a Coke. You can see where this is going. When I decided that I’d try again I committed to forever.

I went to a friend’s cabin for New Year’s Eve, brought with me several cans of Coke (in the hierarchy of tastiest way to drink Coke, cans are number 2, right behind glass bottles), and mentally prepared myself to never taste its sweet nectar again. I think I drank about 4 cokes on December 31. As a coke purist, I never used it as mix for an alcoholic drink (rum and coke was basically blasphemy); I never decanted them into glasses with ice (the risk of dilution was too high, you’d have to me mad); and I never left a can unfinished (or shared, sorry friends). By the stroke of midnight, I’d finished my last sip and the thought of a new year seemed long and un-caffeinated.

I went cold turkey. As everyone trying to break a habit has ever said, the first few weeks were the hardest. I would crave the sweetness, the bubbles. I never experienced caffeine withdrawal, though. I never had headaches, which was a nice surprise. One of the things that I was looking forward to was dropping 10 lbs, this unfortunately never happened because, at first, I simply replaced Coke with sugary juices and gingerale (and beer).

As time went on, temptations presented themselves but I steadfastly refused to give in. Months and years passed and I maintained my Coke-free lifestyle. Today, I can’t even remember what Coke tastes like. The memory I have of it, is just a memory; even the taste-memory I’m holding onto isn’t quite right. I can tell.

People have asked if I’ll ever have another coke; I don’t think I will. Part of me thinks it’s because I won’t be able to stop at just one, another part of me knows it won’t live up to the memory. It won’t taste the same. Like drinking a coke in another country where the ingredients are slightly different, it changes the taste. I got hooked on Canadian Coca-Cola, it was my favourite, nothing else really measured up.

Five years later and I don’t even want a Coke. I can’t remember ever wanting a Coke. Of course, I remember drinking Coke but I can’t even remember the feeling of craving it or wanting one SO BADLY that I’d walk 20 minutes in the winter to Staples just to buy one. Or call Domino’s and order a 6-pack of Coke…no pizza…for delivery. Or hide my last one so when friends came over they wouldn’t see it in the fridge and ask to drink it. I did all those things. I’m not proud.

But those days are long behind me. Now I am addicted to other things, like Parks and Recreation and cinnamon hearts. And the world spins madly on.