After years of loving attention, he said it was time to move on. He needed a change (as if I was rented property). This from a man in real estate, a man who hated change, still lived the same way, in the same house six years after his ex remarried. Resentment festered: anger and scorn itched for release. I waited for a dark night to visit his shady street, harbor side. Left him with a front wall of graffiti, sprayed with the frenzy and speed of a street kid on ice. Joy toggled to relief, as I felt old wounds healing.