Of Love and Regret

So I found this object.

 As a matter of fact I found about a dozen of them. I brought one specimen in for documentation.

There was something inside! Wrapped in plastic (RIP Laura Palmer)! What could it be?!

No, I said WHAT COULD IT BE!? This really doesn't tell me anything!

Oh. It's a wedding invitation. Oh my! Somebody put a LOT of money into these! Only to discard them because they decided they didn't want all of those 'guests' after all. Or perhaps they called off the wedding? I don't know!!! I was sincerely hoping that the invites would have had a future date on them so that I could show up, with an invitation, no less!!!


In another corner of the world, there was trouble in paradise. Or, what is the reverse of paradise? Trouble in somewhere where turmoil is commonplace. Trouble in The Burmuda Triangle. 

 Not sure what the word "unconditional" is doing here. You are very clearly laying down your conditions, my friend. Which is fine. Unconditional love is for victims. Stand up for yourself, demand conditional love!

"Stamp that,
Killa" is one of the ultimate exits I've ever seen.
Listen, Killa, I found your note somewhere near Quantico, Virginia. A Marine town. I'm certain if Chris wasn't gonna clean up his act that you could find a more than suitable and willing replacement in a heartbeat. You're a smart woman, time to start living like one.
I could only interpret from the accompanying message which was written by Chris to his landlords stating that he would not return to the property that maybe, just maybe, Killa wised up and threw his ass out for good.