Dear Ben and Jerry,

My eyes are tearing today. I sit at my computer, tissue in hand, knowing that the comforting carton that normally fills my other hand in times of need, will soon be just a memory.

Because, you, Bennett Cohen, and you, Jerry Greenfield, are taking your succulent, creamy goodness away from its home at 124 S. Allen St.

That's right. I've said it.

I am no longer in denial.

Ben and Jerry's is leaving State College.

And not only am I sad, but honestly, I'm a little bit hurt.

At one point, you were one of us. You bled blue and white. After abandoning your dreams to be doctors, potters, lab technicians, jewelry makers, assistant apartment superintendents, taxi cab drivers and craft teachers, we welcomed you with open arms.

In 1979, well before the advent of the World Campus, Penn State taught you through a $5 correspondence short course in ice cream making. (Incidently, the 2007 Ice Cream Short Course just happened earlier this month, from Jan. 7 to 13, and cost $1,125.)

We nursed you from our very own Borland Laboratory (with an open book test, no less!) How did you repay us? By launching your career in the far away land of Burlington, Vt.

According to the Ben and Jerry's Web site, the duo "chose Burlington, Vt as the second-best place to start their ice cream venture, mostly due to the fact that it was a great college town in desperate need of an ice cream parlor, and because their first choice -- Saratoga Springs, NY -- already had an ice cream parlor."

I happen to think State College is also an amazing college town. Shouldn't your flagship be in the same town as the institution that taught you your craft?

Without you, Penn State is only left with Cold Stone, Yogurt Express and of course, the Creamery.

Sure, we can still find your Chunky Monkey, Cherry Garcia and Half Baked hidden in our supermarket freezers, but we lose the atmosphere, the newspapers, the coffee, and most important of all, Free Cone Day.

Come April, the sidewalks will be eerily quiet without the line that normally stretches around the corner from open until close whilst you dish out your creamy goodness.

I must confess I feel a bit betrayed. You were there for me when UGGS became the style.

You stayed strong through the mini-skirt and legging years, and when Penn State lost again, and again, and again...

We were Ben, Jerry and Ali. We were the three musketeers. You completed me.

So Mr. Cohen and Mr. Greenfield, I believe I speak on behalf of my Penn State community when I say I am very, very disappointed.