You are now Captain Ceaseless Yearning but it's no comfort to me. You used to be so unsparing in how you saw the shallow world around us and the relentless love between us but now you sulk and long. You've retreated into the milky hearted figurine collector who coils around your marrow. I can't help you in your loss. I'm no good at it. I'm not a natural griever. You carry around your cartoon character Linda and I carry around my cartoon character Jay. These idols aren't enough. We can't save each other. I look back over the ruins of our marriage and I write you these letters and I still don't understand how we became ghosts to each other and how our love became hardness became a buffer zone and how it stays love too. Iron becomes gold becomes tears. I can't stop crying. My love is inadequate but it rages anyway, wet and ferocious like a hurricane. It blows all the pieces of myself out at the fault lines. We try to make each other understand to ease the burden of our fake cartoon selves. Jay, honey, forgive me. I will construct all of my fucked up forgiveness into an intricate gift to lay at your feet. The other things I've given you, my submission and rage, have not protected you. We need to unhook to give each other our lives back.