One Single Photograph

I've learned quite a bit about myself in the last couple of months. Up until just recently, I didn't know that I could have literally dozens of attractive girls say "I love you" to me just for getting them quality pizza at a reasonable price (EAT MOJO'S PIZZA.). Say what you will, that can be quite the spoonful of sugar for one's ego.

I also found out that I handle being single in a strange fashion. I hadn't been single for three years. Then, suddenly, I was. The quickest lesson to be learned is to remember that you are a person on your own, and that your significant other should never, EVER define who you are. If you're going to do that, get a fucking hobby. Trust me: crocheting will never tell you that it needs to be crocheted by other people. The Chicago Cubs baseball team will never call you up and tell you "Look it's not you, it's us."

Anyway. That's the simplest, most rudimentary thing you can learn. The thing that I learned shortly thereafter is that you can invest a lot of time into a relationship, but that doesn't mean it was meant to be. Then you're stuck with a lot of memories that can be good ones, but they aren't tangible enough to warrant justification.

I have one single photograph left that I will keep for the rest of my life that will serve as a monument to my most recent relationship. I have no ill will, and things must be as they are. That being said, you can't start a 4,000-mile road trip with your car in reverse. Believe that.