You are my best friend, my lover. You bring me the greatest pleasure in my life and the most pain. I hate our circumstances yet wonder if and when you will ever change yours. Old story, I know. I think of it every day.

I hope you remember what I said on Friday. Just try.

What I’m about to say is not your fault; the other day you got a gift, an expensive gift. Now you, and I, have to worry that your gift will be damaged because of the stupid actions of your roommate. When is enough, enough? When is your world, your life safe from his stupidity?

You said you’d be on here today. Bet $5.00 you’re not. Hope I lose. Bet I don’t.

The sun was setting and the air was cool. I was in my roadster traveling down Freeport Road after a leisurely drive thru the Valley. I got behind a jet black Audi A6, which is one mean machine. From behind, it looks absolutely awesome: the tires are wider than the wheel wells and it sits low and sleek, like a cat ready to pounce on its prey. The Audi spotted me in the rearview mirror and began to step on it. I downshifted into third, blew my tach up to red line and shifted back into fourth. My foot had that gas pedal all the way down; damn near pushed it through the sheet metal. The speedo is climbing and climbing and I don’t care. Faster and faster we are going. My roadster comes alive at high speed, like it’s a completely different car, handling every nuance of change in the road like a finely tuned racing machine. I hit speeds in that car I haven’t seen in years.  We blew down Freeport Road, the wind in my face, the engine screaming for more of that high octane racing fuel I feed it. Weaving back and forth, lane to lane, like two birds in flight, our paths became one. It’s a rush I can’t describe. We hit the Blawnox logjam and slowed down to the appropriate speed. Once out of Blawnox, we hit the turn off to Aspinwall. Bam, the shift goes down, the pedal hits the medal and we are flying thru the bend. The tires are screaming, the wind is howling, and I’m holding on to that steering wheel with all the strength I could muster. My adrenaline dumped, my heart is pounding and I damn near got a woody! Shortly thereafter the Audi hits its turn signal. Our moment in time is now over. As I slowly go by, the little girl driving that beast smiles and waives. Now that’s living. Thank you whoever you are.

 Quit beating yourself up over things you did not intend to happen. 

 I love you.

Sometimes I will act like an ass, but you better remember you make me. (Rental car issue.)

I’m not always right, but neither are you. (Rental car issue.)

You amaze me. How in the hell do you know what I’m thinking? I will never get over that. I hope you know when I’m thinking good things, too.

You brought up two issues today that surprised me, but I am glad you mentioned them because they were obviously a concern to you. I would like to address each issue, one at a time.

First of all, I live by myself by choice. I chose this life because I could not any longer live with an alcoholic. I’ve told you this before and I’ll tell you again. As a child, my dad was an alcoholic. Living with the terror I experienced as a small child is nothing I would ever wish on anyone. I spent hours, night after night, year after year, listening to my father threaten and yell at my mother. As a small boy, there was nothing I could do to save her. I only wished at the time I was big enough and strong enough to solve the problem. When I got the chance to leave home at age 13, after mom died, I accepted placement in an institution rather than continue to live at home. I’m not looking for sympathy. I am a far better man as a result of my experiences than I would have been had I not had them. As my ex’s alcoholism progressed, I warned and warned her that this was a life I could not live. She knew of my past and chose to continue drinking knowing full well what my feelings were. Yes, I have tried over the years to get her help, to get her family involved to convince her to get help. Nothing and I mean nothing I, and others, have done, has made a dent in her drinking. I was told by professionals as well as recovered alcoholics that she will not quit drinking until she chooses to do so and nothing I do will change her behavior. After many years of soul searching I realized and was counseled that I deserve some level of happiness in my life. That waiting for someone to change who doesn’t want to change is short-changing my life and that I, too, have value and her behavior was not my fault. I didn’t make this decision lightly. I didn’t make this decision hastily. I made this decision in order to save my life. I have no doubt that deciding to save my life was the correct decision. I hope someday she makes the correct decision to get help. I am not in love with her. I do have love for her and want nothing but the best for her. Maybe someday she’ll meet someone who makes her happy. You have had no impact whatsoever on the choice I made. I would have made this choice whether you were in my life or not. I am happy you are in my life but please, get rid of any guilt you may feel. You are not the reason I left the ex. She is.

My openness is the second subject you brought up. You mentioned that I was different than most men in that I say what’s on my mind and how I feel. That many other men you know don’t say what’s going on inside their heads. Well, I have never regretted being honest with anybody. I have many, many more regrets about not telling someone the way I feel. I feel no embarrassment or shame in telling you exactly how I feel about you, how much I love you and so desperately want you to be mine. Can I bottle up my feelings and keep them to myself? Of course I can. I’m an expert in shutting up, hiding my feelings and acting like I don’t have a care in the world.

I hope when you brought this subject up that it was not a complaint, that it was simply an observation.

Yes I am open with you. Yes I tell you exactly how I feel. It’s a shame you only see me in one context, in one environment. You don’t get to see me at work, with my friends, around other people. It’s a shame because you miss a lot of good sides of me. You have had little glimpses of me around the kids and around our only mutual friend. (Was she a friend?) Some day you will appreciate who I am, how hard I work and many other things about me that you now don’t get to see. I am confident that when you do you will love and appreciate me even more.

OK, I write to you a lot. I hope not too much. I do because our circumstances dictate that I only get to communicate with you during certain hours that are far to brief. Most of what I write about would be so much easier said in person. We don’t have that luxury right now so I spend the time and considerable effort to make sure you know what’s on my mind and what I think. I don’t know if you know this but I don’t know how to type. I have never had any training. Still, I spend my time writing to you because I think it’s important. You notice I get “mad” when we’re together and you’re on the computer or on the phone. You know why? Because I want your attention, I want to talk to you, not the back of your head while you type messages to someone else. Does it make me angry? No, not angry. Just a little mad. I balance that with the fact that you don’t get any time to do that at home. Tough with kids who need and deserve your attention far more than me. So, I try to compromise. When I am driving I try to leave you alone to get the things done you want to do. It is an effort I make for you that I sure hope you have noticed. For the record, I make no apology for wanting your attention during the short time we are together. You see, I love you and I cherish every minute we get to spend together.

Last but not least, I heard something in your voice on Saturday. I know you love me, I know. Baby, I love you, too.

You’re not here and now it’s late.

My heart is filled with Love and Hate.

Hope you’re happy, I’m real sad.

Kiss my ass ‘cause now I’m mad.