This crunchy newspaper probably isn't going to land on your counter anyway, but I just gotta get this out. Not talking about it is killing me. Not talking to you is just dandy, 'cause the arguments destroyed our love. But we're family. We have a kid together. I have come to realize that I deserted you—because the threat of being deserted was too much and my genetic response took over.
Well, the government took over, technically. I was the weak one and it was in my face all the damn time, between running from you and running back to you, getting that baby bonus—and now my whole family's dirt poor in the wake of trying to help you get your shit together. I love the memories of when things actually were working. We had synergy and it was powerful. We're so much more powerful when it's shared. You're unlike anyone ever, bold to the bone, steely, silly, sexy. I love you so much for raising our daughter. She's the most perfect thing I've ever seen, and I know you're committed to this.—Soul Fam