By P.J. Harmer — RattlingChains.com Staff

I know separations can be messy.

And I hope this one won’t be. After all, we’ve been so good to each other over the past few years. I’ve coddled you, at times. When you went storming off into the woods or slammed yourself up against a tree, I ran after you and wanted to make sure you were safe and sound.

You were one of my first, too.

Oh that special moment. The first time I felt your wonderful underside and gripped you as I stared down a beautiful fairway.

It was love at first touch.

I remember the feeling of knowing I had you all to myself, too. You had this Buzzz to you. You were oh so pretty and when I really needed help, you were always there for me.

Whether it was for something short, long or in between, you were there.

No matter what, you always stood by me, too. Whenever I was down and out, I looked and looked and there you were.

A glorious piece of green plastic, ready for me to grab.

However, they say everything plays its course in life. You, my precious Buzzz, have stood the test of my disc golf bag. As people gave me discs to try, I always shrugged them off. I had my perfect mid-range, I said.

My Buzzz.

It’s beautiful. I know how it flies. It’s so pretty.

Let’s be honest, however, age hasn’t been the best to you, has it? There were days when I had no idea what you were up to. Did you go on some late-night benders I didn’t know about? All I know is that in recent months, you were bashing into trees more and more.

So much so that I had to take your license away.

The go-to license, that is. It was sad, too. I know my form is slowly improving and I am learning more and more what to do with discs, but as I grabbed for discs recently, I didn’t always grab for you.

And with that in mind, I have to come clean.

I’ve found someone else.

I know, it’s hard. Please don’t cry. We can still be friends. And, on occasion, I’ll still see you. We can talk about old times. Maybe you’ll clean yourself up a little and we can hang out a little more.

And I know it’s cliché, but it’s not you — it’s me.

I’ve just moved on. And I have a secret — I’ve been hanging out with that newer gal on the block — Ibex.

I know, I know… you can’t stand her. You got mad when I put her in the bag. I can’t imagine your thoughts now or what you went through every time you saw me throw her and how smooth and graceful she flew through the sky for me.

I feel awful, I really do.

Remember the day you first arrived? I took you out and threw you for a while. I swore to you then that you’d always be my favorite, my No. 1. Especially when I needed a mid-range. I even used you to putt sometimes.

A while ago, somebody hooked me up with Ibex. I won’t mention names, but it was love at first grip. I tried to keep it secret at first. I didn’t want to break your heart but I knew reality had to step in.

Honesty is the best policy, right?

I know you’ll get jealous for a little while as I send the Ibex down the fairway and you watch it fall gracefully to the ground. But don’t feel bad. I’ll sneak around and see you sometimes. I can’t throw everything away that we’ve had.

But it’s time for me to move on. And for now, my heart is with the Ibex.

At least for now. Don’t go too far my dear Buzzz, you never know what might happen in the future.

P.J. Harmer is the lead blogger for Rattling Chains. E-mail him at: pj [at] rattlingchains.com.