Once again, that rogue Valentine takes your heart for a walk and throws it to the curb. Falling out of love with you is like running my wrists along the razor blades sitting on the dusty coffeetable in some garage in the back alleys of Nowhere. Is the honeymoon over or are we just simply divorcing before it gets any more ugly? The thoughts of ending this soon in the game bring tears to my eyes, which worry me into another corner. Maybe I am not ready to be in love with anyone or anything, right now. Maybe I cannot feel the pain of loving without feeling like there is death in the air. Come over here and make my dreams come true with your touch, all those promises that lifted me up and made me feel alive for a moment. Lie to me and say that I am strong. Make believe that you believe in me. I am truly sorry that I could not make your dreams come true. Maybe next time, there will be a script to consult, so I can look up some of the clues. Being in a relationship is too much like a detective novel, these days. I have seen this inspector before, snooping around some of my other accidents of the heart.
"Maybe we can say that the butler did it."
"We tried that, the last time. "
"Oh, yeah, and he did not fall for it for a moment, if memory serves."
"Memory serves whomever is in control of the past, I always like to say."
"Hey, by the way, I have been meaning to tell you. Fuck you very much."
The officer taps his flashlight against the fogged over drivers side window. Asleep at the wheel again, we parked the lost dream in a supermarket parking lot somewhere near the lake. It was cold and we could not afford to take our hostage to a motel. We could not even afford to make change from the lint that we held sacred in our pockets. Rolling down the window and looking out into the cold night into a bright light, our hero puts his arm up to cover his eyes.
"Good morning, Officer, can I help you with something?"
"You know that it is illegal to park here overnight, dont you? Can I see your license and registration, please. I assume that you have proof of insurance, too. You folks arent from around here, are you? I think that I am going to need to have you all step out of the car, slowly."
For a moment or two, he thinks about making a run for it. The windows are all steamed over, as the other two occupants begin to stir from the cold air and vocal commotion. The officers radio cracks and pops against the quiet silence of the surrounding parking lot. After rummaging through the glove box, he hands over the paperwork through the crack in the window, and lights a cigarette.