BUGGER (OR ME)

So some is trying to get between her and me. To take away what we have. Those sacred things that I thought were safe. What can I even do to protect us? I know this is more about her than it is about me, but come on! I'm involved and now all the intimate details of 'our' life are out there. Just floating around for God knows who to suck up.
You know that proliferation of advance communication devices that I was ranting about mere days ago? Well, all I have to say is "SEE, I TOLD YOU". When I tell someone, (you all know I'm inferring Nicole here, right?), that I think their fingers look like matchsticks, and that their hair reminds me of smoldering apricots in a fall fire, and that I want nothing more than to fall asleep inside her until the day I meet my Savior face to face, then I intend for that to disappear in thin air, the residue resting in the nooks of her memory. What I don't want is all my tender moments, all my "stuff", reduced to a transcript and read by Pat O'Brien, sandwiched between stories of Lindsay Lohan and 50 Cent's baby's momma's drug habit. Is there no decency at all left in this world? Is the Tsunami, and all the horror it left behind, lost it's media staying power? What about this war in Iraq? Didn't we just lose more soldiers in one day than we ever have since this terrible thing started?
You know I do my best to share with you what is going on in my life, but this is unacceptable. I give you what I want to give you. Don't take anymore from us. This attention could drive her away forever. And then I would be heartbroken. Leave us alone and I'll tell you what you want to know.