Dear Braves...

My Dearest Braves,

I love you.

Ok, I got that out of the way.

We have had a long history together. Growing up in Nashville, I loved you because my Dad and brothers loved you. When we moved to Atlanta when I was 12 years old, that love only grew stronger because distance was no longer a factor in our relationship. But it wasn't until I was in my early 20's that I actually started putting effort into what we have together. That might have something to do with the fact that I lived within walking distance of Turner Field for a while. (I called in sick to work one day to go see a game with my roommate....Shhhhhhhhhhh.)

Sure, we've had our ups and downs. Last years "Infield fly" debacle in the wildcard game. Oof! Too soon? Not your fault though, so I'm not placing blame.

I feel like we need to channel 1995. I mean, obviously that was a great year. Love was in the air, you brought home the World Champion Title, and everything was right in the world. I feel like both you and I were feeling really good about where things were headed in the years to come.

But I was wrong, Braves. I was very wrong. My heart was broken in 1996, and again in 1999. We got so close, but you were pulling away for some reason. There was no spark. No World Championship Trophy. (It's not about tangible things, I know! - But do you see how that trophy shinessssss? You used to know how to spoil me.)

Listen, Braves. Honey. Sweetie. We can get through this together. You think it might be too late for us, but it's not! Let's talk tonight. Does 9:37pm work for you? The kids will already be in bed. We can hash things out with no distractions.

I love you, Braves. Let's work things out.

This is why we chop,
Shaunna