Drunk to the point where I can't stand and still the feeling of missing you holds more president than standing. I'm not certain that I was built to sustain this existence in your absence, yet still I try to go on, all the while, watching unfit humans start anew... Watching the dealers and the ****** turn new leaves over in the wake of the new lives granted to their care... watching the parents of future presidents pace the halls of their wallpaper-peeling abodes, smoking and drinking and swearing and cursing and hating while the greatest gifts that God should ever bless them with cry out in the dark not ten steps away, unnoticed and unloved...
 Life is unfair, little one and Death, Death is unkind... why has he not come for me, come to ease the isolation of my broken heart, which beats in maddening defiance of my broken existence...
You are six now, and life is growing ever closer, threatening to clamp it's jaws around your jovial throat, while she teases me with release... I have missed so much. I will miss so much more before there is an end to my suffering, yet still I must soldier on... On towards a fitting end that I can only hope awaits me. On towards the end of pain and the balm of eternal rest, for I have not SLEPT in years and I have not LIVED in lifetimes... for I have missed all of yours... yet I wish, nay, pray, to go no further...
 Your life and your happiness keeps me sustained and moving forward, all the while haunting me in every waking dream...
Live, my Angel. Live for yourself and to keep me alive.
I love you. God's speed and good luck, good night and sweet dreams...