I woke up this morning with my heart stinging like a pair of scraped knees. I must have fallen recently, but I don't know when. In the last few days I haven't lost a job nor has an important woman walked out on me--those things happened a long time ago. No point in pondering what's been done. I've got to put an antiseptic on my wounded heart before I dress it with a band-aid. It may sting awhile and when I pull off the band-aid it will hurt like heck, but it will get better. And if I'm lucky it will leave behind a neat scar.