Cryptic warnings in dusty old books. Lose floorboards and cuts from fishing hooks. Memories that aren't mine, transferred over airwaves and across time. Lifetimes of bitter motes metered out and measured in Television tropes.
Sam and Diane until Rebecca moved in. I recall Coach's signature move, taking it on the chin. Frank until Winchester, Better or worse, Hawkeye and Trapper/BJ ever perverse.
It's not who I am. Not steps I've taken. I remember it crisp as overcooked Bacon.