>It’s Saturday morning, 4:30am. I just got back from a generally pleasant evening at “Fuse” — afterhours club here in Springfield. I danced quite a bit — had a blast. I was there until just about 3:50am when I saw something kind of odd. There was my ex, a security guard for the club (I knew she was working) — probably about 3 weeks after telling me “she needed time to herself” and “…maybe we should just be friends for a while” & “I need to do something for myself, without any help” — leaning back on some young chap,…