that one time steve nash broke up with me.

it's no secret that i harbor(ed) undying devotion for Mr. Nash.

if you haven't heard,

we've been through a bit of a rough patch this past week...

and of course, i expressed myself with some microsoft painting...

and then some writing from the depths of my despair...

That One Time Steve Nash Broke Up with Me
{by yours truly}

Enough about Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise -- let's talk about my own little heartbreak. Because the 4th of July (my favorite holiday, as it turns out) brought one big burn when Steve Nash left Phoenix for The Team in Los Angeles That Shall Not Be Named.

It’s not me, it’s you. Definitely you.

I am a woman scorned. My love for Steve Nash ran deep. I wore his jersey, I owned a shirt commemorating his one-eyed escapades and I denied any and all trade rumors with total, blissful devotion. And then he dropped the bomb -- Steve Nash was leaving me.

And he didn’t just fall out of love with me. He left me for a two-bit tramp on the West Coast. A two-bit tramp who hangs out on the same street corner as Metta World Peace.

I could have cheered for the Heat or the Knicks, or at least acknowledged their existence long enough to get my Nash fix. I could have, given time, even grudgingly watched a few minutes of a Mavericks game here and there without nausea overtaking me.

But...the Lakers?! Dirty. Why not take up baseball and have a tryst with the Yankees while you’re at it?

I thought we had something special.

All those games. All those odd-yet-endearing finger-licking moments before free throws. All those questionable haircuts (or lack thereof) and crazy-eyed expressions. And oh, the Vitamin Water commercials!

Do I just box up our memories? Scrapbook them? Burn them? Dump them out the window onto the front lawn? Wallow in my purple #13 jersey with a pint of ice cream and (insert Meg Ryan movie of choice)?

Take your cap and leave my sweater.

Steve, Steve, Steve. We need to have a little discussion. I know you probably have your reasons, or you wouldn’t have left me. It was a good business decision, right?

Hint: Good business is about loyalty as much as it is about money.

If I wanted to, I could read all the articles about why this is a better choice for him. A better choice for his increasing age. A better choice for his finances. (Which, when you’re debating between this-much-million and that-much-million, I fail to see what difference it truly makes.)

Right here waiting for you.

I’m a girl who values loyalty over many other factors. I also believe in life after love, thanks to Cher and luckily for Steve Nash. If he comes crawling back to Phoenix someday, I’d like to say I’d be blasting Kelly Clarkson and happily moved on to the hypothetical arms of my next on-court love affair.

But here’s the ultimate truth: I know I’d take him back. Now all I need is a boombox to hold over my shoulders and a Peter Gabriel cassette tape.