To my dearest, always-loved Hibby:
I wanted to thank you for hanging in there while I’ve been riding this recent rollercoaster of mood swings and generalized sadness. You’ve been not only the perfect paradigm of “husband”, staying loyal in sickness and in health, but you’ve been a best friend, a transmuter of my problems, making them neutral or positive.
And while your hands cannot master the chemical imbalance that curses my biological thinking organ inside my skull, they sure can and have mastered all the other hassles in my life: dishes, coffee making, dinner cooking, feeding the birds.. And of course all theres all your tender, loving uplifting affection that channels my deepest romantic manifestations and places my center of gravity back on track.
As I’ve told you, My love for you radiates hotter than the suns rays beating over the desert basins transcontinent, for they never beam for a purpose richer than our love. And when this bout of depression is over, maybe I’ll stop crooning Portishead and sing a happier tune, maybe an Alicia Keys’ song in a major key. Teenage love Affair. You Don’t Know My Name. Even that annoying New York one with Jay Z.
Okay, maybe not that one.