Atticus: The woman that you love is out there and you know you can’t have her. How do you even get up in the morning?
Hank: Well the booze is always helpful and so is the art. Everything that I write is either for her or about her. So I’m with her, even when I’m not.
And that’s really all that will be left. I wouldn’t be surprised if we never spoke again. That’s life. The life I created with my poor decisions. I will say, I don’t think you ever did or would’ve accepted me and all my flaws as I accepted yours. There’s more, but that’s all I feel the need to say now. Or maybe ever will.