“We’ve never done anything together that I’ve actually cared about.” That’s what she said right before driving off in her Mercedes. I should have known that she only cared about the money—the fame. I should have known she’d leave me standing here, rocks from her tires spraying up on my steel-toe boots, cowboy hat collecting the rising dust from the gravel, my bird dog whining at my feet. I should have known I’d end up being the lonely cowboy from my own country songs—the ones that got me from strumming my guitar in the barn loft to performing on the stage of the Grand Ole Opry. But no. Instead, I ignored the holes she burnt in my pocket on salon visits, shopping sprees, and Starbucks runs. I chose to love her even when she hadn’t loved me. She had never loved me.

All of the time I’d spent writing songs just for her, smiling in photos just for her, picking flowers just for her, was a waste. All of the time I’d spent on those things that were just for her could have been spent on another girl who cared—appreciated—me for more than my celebrity. Gosh, I’ve spent so much time with her that I can’t even imagine having a girl that’s good, but I guess now I can find one. I’ve been left with an opportunity. But also with a broken heart. And what’s a guy to do but write down a lyric or two, drown his feelings in a 6 oz glass of Tennessee whiskey, and wallow in self-pity? What’s a country singer like me gonna do but sing some sad melody and use it to make a bunch of dough? Yeah, she left me with a chance to capitalize on my own heartbreak, but lost love songs are so cliché.

My dog barks at the fading taillights, but doesn’t leave my side. I reach down to pat him on the head, then turn toward the garage where my faithful Chevy idles. I’m not hopping into my truck to drive after her. I’ll just let her go. And I won’t regret it like all of my fellow brokenhearted cowboys who let their girls get away. At least those ones were worth keeping. Mine? Not so much. It took her dumping me to recognize that I should have dumped her. When she was mine, I hadn’t seen her faults. I had been blinded by love. Without her, I can see with overwhelming clarity.

My dog is in the passenger seat, the windows are down, the radio is blasting Willie, Cash, and Merle. The sun is sinking below the horizon. It’s the end of a day, and soon to be the beginning of another. I’m at the crossroads of a fresh start, and I’m eager to see where it takes me.