Dear father. Beautiful mother.

Please allow me this opportunity to thank you, but caricature of my decisions needs to be put in place first.

As the days passed me by, long ravenous nights, restless and unaware. You helped me realize that the white lines turned into white lies, the dice I constantly rolled made me a sucker for the rule of threes.

You made me realize that this is not who I was made to be, and I can be a better man I know. I never needed to become a shell of the man I used to or intended to be.

The lines I drew was nothing more than a mark to build a wall, a barrier between myself and candidly company. I've replaced real words and genuine touch with a new best friend and she's called loneliness. I can feel her but touch so fake, I can hear her words but similar to the voice in my head.

So I want to thank you for allowing me to make my own mistakes  but never vamoose my side. Just know that I've learned from my mistakes and trying my best to be a better man than yesterday, everyday.

You've raised me with love, clarity, and a soft touch and I need to thank you for that.

I hope you hear this.

I love you.