Returning to Fort Lauderdale from an orientation program in Lake Worth last week, I stopped for throat lozenges at a familiar strip mall in Boynton Beach. It was right down the street from where I lived with P. in the last half of our relationship. I trained little Fergie, now dead, and Shaymus, now with another family that can better care of him, in along the walkway there.
Driving through Boynton always tears my heart out. I had everything I wanted when I lived there -- a good paying career, a long-time mate, two wonderful dogs, a home with three bedrooms and a two-car garage. Life had surpasssed my dreams.
Then it all fell apart, and I have none of those things, and the memories are thick as tar when I pass through that area.
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