So after all these years, 27 of using cocaine, and 28 married to you, I had to call the police for the 4th time this year I think. Using in the basement, in my truck, acting like a hunted animal. Police with their guns drawn in my basement getting you out.
And they still didn't arrest you!
I don't know what it's going to take.
But now you have had a couple from church take you in and Miss Kitty is telling everyone about it in the guise of helping me, telling them to take over my jobs because I'm in trouble.
Only those people that talk to me know what I'm going through.
And to lie to your mother and brother about me, tell them what a horrible person I am.
The only answer I can think of is to make you stay away so that you do not keep doing this to us.
My parents warned me. But I thought I could save you.
Well, you win. I can't do it. Cocaine is your lover, your wife, your master and your executioner.
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