"I've been waiting for this moment for a long, long time", I tell them. In my iTunes the Dido song White Flag is already keyed up so I take a deep breath and press play. "The truth is most of me died when she left," I explain. "What remains is only the broken husk of a man. More void than form I suppose... just spit and shit tethered to the flimsy hope she might one day call. Every day that hope diminishes and it's replaced by the stinging voice of reason - that she is better off without me." Holding back tears I look at them. "In a way this feels good. I can finally talk to someone about the loss and not pretend I'm ok." My legs and arms are all rubbery due to the surge of adrenaline. My mouth is sour. Fear has a familiar taste. I step on the board and it feels miles away from my head so I do what any good elder skatesman would do: attempt to execute a perfect Drake Jones styled pop shuvit. This doesn't make up for all my mistakes. It doesn't even come close. But it's a start. My feet find themselves back on the griptape squared up with the bolts. Proud of my accomplishment, I look to the person wielding the gun. They removed the Scooby Doo villain mask revealing to me what I already knew in my bones. "No stink leg," my ex says and she pulls the trigger. My heart is full and I die whole. I am loved.