I know you've been dying to ask me this. I see it in your eyes. I know you've been wondering why the greatest power couple in basketball broke up. Ours was a love for the ages, right? We were perfect together, don't think I've forgotten that. I could leave you waiting 'til Kingdom Come for the answers, and you'd still be waiting, it's that big a deal in the family.

It's not that I don't love her. I still do. She'll always mean something to me, always be on the speed-dial, always be someone I go out for drinks with after the game, and we'll always find time for the mind-blowingly good sex (because, believe me, it is mind-blowingly good sex). That wasn't why I had to end it.

I love her.

But I can't.

Fucking.

Stand.

Her.

That was what happened at UConn. Two years together there, and from the day she told me she liked me (by pushing me against a wall and going straight for second base, by the way; subtlety was never her strong point, if you haven't noticed) to the day I left campus, I don't think I could put together a week I had to myself. And yeah, that includes sleeping. She was a big believer in cuddling, which always left me getting the wrong amount of sleep and exposed to her lethal morning breath. No, really, lethal. I swear some mornings something had crawled in there and died.

You've seen how touchy-feely she is. Hello, "slaps refs on the butt and musses Geno's hair"? Or all those headpalms and hair ruffles? Now imagine having such a physical girlfriend. She always had to have a hand on me, and usually it was on my ass or my boobs. And it was nice for a while- I mean, who doesn't love being the center of someone's life? I never felt so important in my life, which says something. But you can get tired of it after a while. I started feeling like my body wasn't mine anymore, like she was trying to claim it for hers, and I couldn't take that. I tried to get her to back off, but… well, she didn't take it too well. Italians are big on drama, and South Americans are apparently pretty crazy when they don't get what they want. She got on me about how I didn't love her anymore, how I didn't want to be with her, going right from point A to point B without even thinking twice. She didn't believe me, though. She's an all-or-nothing kind of woman.

So when I headed out to Seattle, I thought I might have a little peace for a change. I did… sorta. I mean, she wasn't there with the hands all over me, but she was always calling me, texting me, messaging me, anything to keep in contact. Every damn day, like she was afraid I was going to run off with someone else as soon as her back was turned, like I was going to leave her at the first chance I got. So much for her trusting me, huh? So much for being tough-minded and independent, huh? She couldn't make up her mind why she wanted to be with me, or why she wanted me to be with her beyond the fact that I *was* hers. Like I was her property or something. Like she had the right to keep tabs on me 24/7/365. Ex-fuckin'-cuse me?

The other thing is… or one of the other things, I've lost count… it's all about her. It's a younger-child thing, I know how it is. She'll start a conversation, ask how you are, and then I swear she loses interest because your life just isn't as cool as hers, and she answers all her own questions about herself. Never waits to be asked, never thinks people might not care. No, it's all about her. Sometimes I couldn't even get in a word edgewise when she asked me a question before she'd be off talking about herself again. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to scream "SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!!!" at her, both in person and not. I honestly don't know how I haven't.

If I stayed, she was gonna strangle me. Not for real, obviously, but emotionally, mentally. She was too much, just too much. She wanted me to be all about her, and I can't do that. I have a family, friends, a team, people who want a piece of my time. And yeah, I need some of my time too. She couldn't let me do that if I was officially hers… so I had to make her let me go before I couldn't anymore, before she was holding on too tight.

You're looking at me like you don't understand. I should have known. You see what she wants you to see, and that's what you want to be. I know you'll have time to think about this, so here it is: you're making the same mistakes she did. You want to be her so badly, you'll do everything she does, even the things she shouldn't be doing. And you're going to do to your gorgeous, brilliant girl what D did to me… or your girl is going to do to you what I had to do to D.

Don't fuck this up, okay?