As I still occasionally ponder the history of my sitch and as I anticipate visiting my best-friend-since-kindergarten this weekend (who knows the entire story), I have decided to re-frame - and to condense - my sitch in my thoughts and in my words:
"What happened?"
"She left. Her word, promises, commitments and vows ultimately meant nothing. Period."
That's it. That's all. All else is commentary,
Gardener
"My soul, be satisfied with flowers, With fruit, with weeds even; but gather them In the one garden you may call your own." Cyrano deBergerac
