You recently married. I got to know about it just 3 days to the event, and even then, from someone else. You never gave me the slightest clue, and you still haven’t. But I had my own plans made already, so I couldn’t be around. Besides, you surely had a reason for not telling me about your marriage — I obviously wan’t wanted around. So coming around, even if I did have the time and inclination to, would have been rather disingenuous on my part.

I’m not complaining. I’m human, and I do understand why you didn’t want me around. But your family and our mutual friends obviously don’t. So they keep bugging me about not being around when you tied the proverbial knot. If only they knew what we both know.

Good luck, my dear little thing. May the Divine Wisdom grant you the desire to dream once again, the strength to wake up from your slumber and live your dreams, and the courage to live your life, your way. Hasta mañana.

Above is my friend Cyril Mettle, and his pretty little naughty sister — Eileen Elsie Mettle. No, he’s NOT dead. He just packed out. Of course last time I checked, both of us were as straight as the long wooden TV poles protruding out of people’s houses at my village — and we both knew we were going to, at some point, find pretty little things each and… and go our separate ways with out little things… to have a whole lot of kids and live forever after. Or somthine like that. At least I though so.

But having lived together for such a long time, his moving out didn’t go without a scratch on this achy breaky little heart of mine. Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs, like all lovers friends do. But what would life be without these?

And I’ve always dismissed this feeling of emptiness that creeps in every now and then — making believe everything is ok, and telling lies to the only person I’ve become accustomed to (and comfortable with) lying to — myself. That is, until the next time when this emptiness creeps in again.

Hasta mañana, gool ‘ole friend, Cyril Mettle, hasta mañan.