Every love story has an end...But this is

Every love story has an end...But this is only the beginning. As I write this I can only hope that

the tale about to unfold remains a love story and doesn't degenerate into some grotesque tragedy that may or may not involve a wood chipper. I remember the day we met. It was autum

n. My future fiancé and I went into the woods to jump into piles of leaves and admire nature. Naturally, boredom struck. That's when we decided to go HAM on some trees. My wood ch

ipper was attached to a V-8 motor. I was ready to do some extreme deforestation. My fiancé had just returned from bird watching to see vast mounds of saw dust across the meadow.

A single Larch still stood. I'd run out of gas. As I raised my hatchet, my bird-loving wife to be gasped, "The Larch!"

I turned round 360 degrees. Tree stumps as far as the horizon. I finished off the larch in 4 blows. "The marriage is OFF! Tree murderer!" "Something wrong my love?" I queried wipin

g sap from my face. She stormed off to her Plant Rights meeting, where she and friends lobbied for equal rights for vegetation. We divorced soon after, citing tree murder. Later we

'Oakey-dokey,' I said. 'You really know how to stick it to someone.' Life's such a birch sometimes. I was so frond of her & walnut stop loving her. But maple this is for the best.

I sat in front of the fireplace. With a deep breath, I started 2chuck the branches in2 the flames. "She loves me she loves me not" I knew falling for a sapling was wrong. (sigh..)