Dearest Peter Pan:

You are a cad. You lied to me. I don't know who the hell you are or ever were. You sure as hell put up a good show for everyone around you. They call you Captain, but you're not, you're a fucking cad. Did the excitement just "fall away"? Once responsibility took form you fucking fled. And not just with me, you've done it with everyone of substance in your life. But it sure is nice to fall back into those tantalizing trysts with new, exotic people, isn't it? Back into NeverResponsibleLand. A place full of cute presents and notes and alluring admiration. Where you can play Don Quixote and write your muse. Yeah they sure make a person feel special. I hope you enjoy your stay there. Maybe that's where you can forget you're 36 and pretend you're ten years younger. Because one of these days you're going to have another big fucking wakeup call and realize the gates are shut to NeverResponsibleLand and you will finally have to live in the world that you've created for yourself and for your children. Don't say I didn't warn you.