Told You. Everything Sounds Better In The

As If At The Age Of Eighteen Life Already Sucked Beyond Any Hope Of Improvement.

Once She'd Loved My Filet Mignon, My Carnivore Inklings, But Now She Was A Vegan Princess, Living Off Of Beans. She'd Given Up The Cheese And Bacon, Sworn Off Burger King, And When I Wouldn't Do The Same She Gave Me Back My Ring. I Stood There By The Romaine Lettuce, Feeling My Heart Pine. Wishing That This Meatless Beauty Still Would Be All Mine. She Turned Around To Go To Checkout, Fifteen Items Or Less. And I Knew This Was The Last Go-round, So This Is What I Said. ... "don't You Ever Give Me No Rotten Tomato, 'cause All I Ever Wanted Was Your Sweet Potato.

There Was No Short Answer To This; Like So Much Else, It Was A Long Story. But What Really Makes Any Story Real Is Knowing Someone Will Hear It. And Understand.

With My Mom, When Someone Was Gone, They Were Gone. She Didn't Waste Another Minute Thinking About Them, And Neither Should You.

He's Getting Dumped. And He Doesn't Even Know It Yet. He's Probably Eating A Cheeseburger Or Flossing Or Picking Up His Dry Cleaning, And He Has No Idea. No Inkling.