I am no longer in love with you. I love you, and I care about you, but I don’t look forward to every new day with you any more, I don’t look forward to coming home to you every night and you whispering in my ear. No longer do you stroke my sensuality the way you used to, nor do you get a rise out of me like you used to. But it goes deeper than that.

We’ve simply grown apart. We started dating a long time ago and it was so exciting because it was new. You were so fresh and dope, so hypnotizing with your presence and stance that I was immediately impressed. The way you used to come at me with your language and emotion used to grip my soul and spirit and I committed to you immediately. There were some rough times: your run-ins with the police and FBI, and the constant talk that you weren’t going to survive because you were just a passing fancy…but even through all that, I admired how you held your head up and persevered. Our souls marched to the same rhythm; we were one and I believed that nothing could tear us apart.

But then came the downturn. The rivalries, the demeaning of women…I even hung on during these times but my soul became uneasy. I stayed, even through the death of two of our favorite sons, believing that we would rebound from the pain that these deaths would leave behind. We never did. What we did instead, was to try to fill this hole with less quality. It has not worked. We have lost the meaning of our marriage, a marriage that was based on meaning and love, that has now been reduced to everything but. You let people in who took advantage of you, all to earn a buck. They took what was once so beautiful, and shit on it. They started to use you for evil, and your face began to show the wear and tear of being used. You got caught up in the popularity and the pull of being young, and caved under pressure to be hip. So instead of being true to the soul of who you were in the beginning, you are being reduced to being something that I am no longer familiar with. Your new children, the ones you had outside of our marriage, I can’t support. It is my hope that you can show them the true history, but for now…I say to you, Hip-Hop: I want a divorce. I can’t watch you implode, so I want out.

What do we do about our favorite sons, though? I have been thinking about that…I think that you should take care of them. I will check in on them from time to time, just to make sure that they are still adhering to the game, but for the most part, they are your responsibility. I cannot teach them the origins, or where they came from. That is your responsibility also. Please remember that and teach them well.

I love you, but I just can’t do this anymore.