Too bad they don’t prepare you for this shit. You know the way all Disney movies end with the guy ending up with the chic…that’s shit! I put up the fight of my life. All to convince her that maybe that “nun” thing really was a passing fad. We went to every fun, urban event I could find. The Korogas, blankets and even threw in a couple of Jameson live parties. You remember the one Ty Dolla came through? I was there, with my girl in tow. We got down to the raunchiest of music, well I got down while she smiled all through. Almost like she understood what I was doing. When the parties didn’t work, I took her to museums and galleries. Thinking maybe Picasso would speak something into her soul. Perhaps the gentle chimes by Mozart would finally calm the fire this God had lit in her. All the while she prepared for her vows. She even learned Latin in her spare time. Which again should have told me she was serious, coz no one learns a dead language if they plan on living like the rest of us.

I was killing myself, in between work and her. I was losing it. Being interesting that consistently was a lot of work. Side note; girls never get how much work it takes too be funny. I digress. My work began to suffer, my boss dropped hints that I was becoming really expendable. I swear I would have happily lost that job and the next one for that girl. Yet, even in all this madness, I had not even once kissed this girl’s lip. If she had not been religious, I would have sworn I was bewitched or something because she had me sprung. I was bloody from fighting with God. My breath felt forced every day as it brought me closer to losing her for good. You ever tasted blood? The way you can taste death somewhere in the distance. I could feel it, my end coming.