Dear Jack,

You were never there emotionally. You may have spread your riches around but you will still never buy me. She may call you hers and he may share the secrets of the trade with you, but apart from fuel, what have you injected into my family? No one can replace my creator, and no additional unit can make the role greater. My ire, know now that you deserve it. Her love, know now that you will still never conserve it. I will not apologize for my neglect of your effort, but I will acknowledge your ongoing support, knowing full well you never intended any of it for me—the “trouble-maker”.

Why do you stay? Do you love us? Do you love me? How come you have never given me the benefit of the doubt? What is your silence all about? I have explained mine. I have heard that you are not well, which, surprisingly, does sadden me. You are not evil, you are just not what I continue to need. I hope your body improves, as you keep things going, albeit without the heart usually needed behind family. Please take care of them for me. Let this be my acknowledgement of our turmoil and the symbol of our tumult. If you want resolve then learn to tinker with a different kind of machine, and do it fast.