Dear Mother of my Oldest Son,
20 years ago this week, you and I pledged to each other that we would be good partners to each other and good parents to any children we might bring to this world. We had plans on being married Command Sergeants Major by this point, travel the world, and have a small clutch of children, but like the saying goes, there's many a slip between cup and lip.
It took less than two years for us to start failing at our jobs of spouse and parent, and by our sixth anniversary we had thrown our hands up and admitted failure. Unfortunately our inability to be functioning adults together had a harsh negative impact on our son, some of which I fear will take years to even begin healing.
I'm not saying I miss our marriage, because I don't, but I regret the way it turned out. I sincerely wish we had listened to the advice of our friends and family and waited to make sure. I'm pretty sure that if we hadn't short circuited the courtship process and gone our separate ways for a year or so, we would have had a remarkably different, and possibly happier, outcome.
I cherish the child we created, even if he makes me absolutely mad sometimes. I recognize that without the bad circumstances of our marriage, I would never have had the children that were born after we split up. For their sake, I thank you.
I hope that your new life is successful and fulfilling. I hope that your new child brings as much happiness into your life as my children bring into mine. I must admit that I do enjoy a guilty amount of pleasure when I learn of some minor trevail in your life, or read how your professional life is unpleasant when your name or employer occasionally pops up in the news. I'm sure that you sometimes feel the same when you learn about some complication in my life.
In closing, let me leave you with this: It's been 20 years. I'd be out on parole by now.
Best Regards,
DaddyBear
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