In the end it's all about the end, isn't it? I would make the decision to be happy but I'm too busy being blue. I don't suppose I was ever really careful what I wished for. It all came to me like magic. It never lasted.
At sixteen I lay in bed at night and worried about my '32 Ford. Rust, to be specific. Let's see here, now: Florida + steel = yeah, you got it.
Not exactly the master of suspense, you know where this is going. Oh, I was asked to leave the game of romance some time back. I have memories, though. We all have memories.