Wonder Woman invited me out for a cocktails last Monday. Kind of an odd night for libations as work’s been pretty hectic lately. Bad behavior and naughtiness seems to be the new norm, almost accepted, even by our supposed leaders. Politics aside, I’m busy as fuck and would assume she had her hands full too. And from what I remember – she’s a pretty thirsty gal. In a good way. I miss her!

We dated a few years ago, at least that’s how I envisioned whatever it was we were doing. And I thought we were having a blast – she was a blast! Beyond her obvious beauty and brilliance, she had a great sense of humor and truth be told – a real dynamo in the rack, extremely adventurous. I never shared this with anyone but my spidey sense told me – she just might be the one. Until she wasn’t.

Unexpectedly one morning after a rather amorous evening she told me she no longer felt right about our relationship. I’d never heard her use that word before. Relationship. Somehow, however painful of what was to come next, at least she acknowledged that we were something. Even if her next few words solidified her departure. Anything beyond fuck buddies masquerading as super heroes.

Anyway, she was feeling introspective and needed space. I bravely told her I understood but I was devasted inside. However painful, I couldn’t wait until she left so I could let the tears flow. And that they did. I wrapped myself in our love soiled sheets and inhaled her essence for what seemed like days. The authorities left multiple messages detailing horrific criminal acts throughout the country but I just didn’t care. Let Superman grab all the glory. Him and all his amigos. DC and Marvel made no difference. We were growing like rabbits these days – let the newbies earn their keep.

Before responding to her invitation, I saw some posts on X of her and Atom’s salacious love affair. Rumors of an impending marriage and even a secret pregnancy. Atom was always such a pervert and I could only imagine what debaucherous acrobatics they must be enjoying. Fuckers!

I didn’t really want to speak to her or even hear her actual voice. I knew it would bury me emotionally for days. The VM was brutal enough. I told myself that at least it wasn’t Flash. What a douche! So I texted her. Told her how nice it was to see she called and how flattered for the invitation. But with the rise of White Nationalism and daily cross burnings, it would be irresponsible of me to meet anytime soon. I thanked her and said I hoped she would accept a rain check.

Love hurts. And superheroes are no exception. I’m just so blue.