I never promised you a million dollar home with a Porsche in the pavered driveway, a huge closet full of glittery Versace gowns or cases of Dom Perignon. I never said I'd give you three trips a year to the Italian, let alone the French Riviera. Isn't one Prada handbag enough, why do you have to have four? I know I promised you my loving heart, which I tried to delivered. But you whispered when you left, I wasn't good enough to deliver the goods you really wanted. So long, keep your Miss Dior, *****.