Okay, let’s not beat around the bush: it’s over. I know, I know—this might be the most dramatic breakup letter you’ve ever gotten, but it’s time. Hey, at least I didn’t ghost you, right? Consider this closure. And just to be clear, it’s not me, it’s you. You’ve been around longer than dial-up internet, and honestly, we’re just not clicking like we used to.

At first, you seemed great. You were handing out checks like the ultimate sugar daddy, and everyone was like, “Wow, TABOR’s so generous!” But let’s not kid ourselves—you’re the kind of “boyfriend” who gives me random gifts and says, “I’m helping!” while we’re both drowning in bills. Those checks? Adorable, but they fluctuate more than my mood after a Venti Iced Caramel Macchiato with five shots of espresso, almond milk, extra caramel drizzle, light ice, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top. One year it’s $750, the next it’s $240. Are we really doing this?

Who raised you, TABOR? Oh, right—Doug Bruce. The conservative activist, attorney, and convicted felon who made a brief cameo in the Colorado House of Representatives. I mean, have you seen his mugshot? It’s hard to believe he was the best choice to create a tax policy for the whole state for the long haul, don’t you think?

You’re so constantly seeking validation—always asking for approval, and even when you get it, you’re back asking for more. When does it end? Why can’t you just trust our elected officials to do their job and make fiscal decisions without constantly needing your input?

TABOR, sweetie. I know people are impressed with your yearly surprise, but I’m just not feeling it anymore. I need infrastructure that doesn’t feel like it was built with Monopoly money. I need access to education that doesn’t cost a fortune, where paying off student loans doesn’t require an act of Congress, and government services that don’t feel like they’ve been stuck in a time capsule since Full House was on broadcast television.

And let’s talk about how you’re THE most restrictive tax law in the country. Other states are out here paving the way forward, while you’re stuck holding us back like a fan that got a little too close to Beyoncé’s hair. Is that a little jealousy I sense?

Honestly, I’m ready for a fresh approach, one that actually puts money back in my pocket and helps my community thrive. Not these yearly checks that barely cover one of my bills for the month. Do you even know how much eggs cost these days, TABOR? I need something stable, not the never-ending drama of waiting for a rose on The Bachelor.

So, yeah, it’s official: I’m breaking up with you. I hope you get it, TABOR. You’re a relic of the past, and I’m ready for a future that actually works for all of us. You say you’re saving me money, but honestly, you’ve made it harder to invest in what really matters.

Sincerely,
A Colorado resident who deserves more

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