Or what is it you used to say when we’d to go out in my pickup truck down by the pond, just the two of us? I’m the bit to your bridle. I’m the Jack in your Daniels….”Would it be weird if I were shedding tears right now?“You’re the fruit in my pie…you’re the sprinkles on my cake,” I finish his sentence.

The downside, my beauty, is that you’re in a fogged glass bubble that’s as far out of my reach as I can imagine. I wish you would use your gaudy engagement ring to cut a hole through the glass to be able see me.

I go from flying to drowning as I slide down the soul-deadening slippery slope I realize I’m on. I can’t breathe, can’t talk, suddenly realizing I’m an imposter. I’ve crossed the line. Wronged my girl. And in that few seconds of thought I feel fate strong-arm me, forcing me to turn and walk away like a helpless idiot needing to be put out of his misery.