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I don’t know why she broke up with me. I was always there when she needed me. Well, aside for about 3/4ths of a year that one time when she told me she was pregnant.
This was the second time in my life that I’ve felt like I’ve found “The one.” But the first one doesn’t count, because neither could I at the time. I was two, and I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with my teddy bear, FDR.
Things were going so splendidly before we split. Just last week we were sitting on a bench in the park on a sunny afternoon, when she put her hand on mine, turned to look at me, and said, “We should have brought some bread.”
And now it all makes sense. Bread for the birds. At the time I thought she was asking me to marry her, so like a fool my eyes teared up and I simply said, “Yes.” I guess it is like my grand pappy said when he told my pappy, “I’d be a fool to think you didn’t raise a fool.” Well, he was right. He was a fool. Like father like son. Good thing he wasn’t my father. It’s like that saying found in the correspondences between Jarod Ora Kintz and Dora J. Arod: I’m looking at him to look at me, but he is me, so what am I, a mirror?
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