Dear Dick, Whiskey Dick, That is.

Hands that once made me quiver from the inside out, now feel inept, clumsy, and cold. The drunken, fumbling, hands of a stranger. I do not know your touch, nor do I know you. The mask has fallen from my eyes. You were good, you held your facade together well for a long time.

You knew what I was about, yet, you thought you could change my mind, no, manipulate my mind. You were trying to convince me that the fault was mine, that I should just be happy with what I had.

Irregardless, my true wants and needs didn't matter. Ah, love makes us stupid and blind.

You stole two years from me, dishonesty from the start. You wanted all happy and play, just be, no attachments, responsibility, or accountability. You craved an escape from the reality of life.

And, now you’re living it. It’s finally clear.