Dear Donald, it's all over...

Dear Donald, my beloved "Tusky."

It's over.

There, I've said it. But let's admit it, things haven't been right for some time, have they? And now my folks have put their foot down.

"You've got to leave," they said. I was torn, I really was. For a long time in public, I resisted the very notion. It seemed so radical, so final. However, in my heart of hearts I had to agree with them. So now we must go our separate ways.

It isn't you. It's me. Actually, thinking about it, it is you. You and your mates were taking me for granted. I didn't feel free any more. You kept telling me what to do. If you cared what I thought, you didn't show it. In the end, I felt I just had no say – you were controlling my life.

We had our good times. There were so many hopes when we started out building our futures together all those years ago. How long ago is it now? We were so blissfully content.

Our lives have been so intertwined that we will have to have a good talk or two. There is a lot that needs to be sorted out. Let's be adults about it. Over the next couple of years we'll have to go through each other's things. But Donald, please, please, don't be awkward, or I'll just have to walk away.

We can of course still be friends. I'll come to visit once in a while, and you'll be welcome here too.

I invested in the relationship, I really did. I kept giving you money to spend on your mates and keep everything sweet and happy.

Okay, you gave me some of the money back. Not all of it though. I'll be honest, Donald, that started to rankle.

I think looking back I can pinpoint when things started to go sour between us. It was the arrival of Nigel. But for him, we might have survived.

He was trouble from the start. He tried whispering in my ear, but I didn't want to listen. Ugh! What a horrible little man!

Then he spread rumours among my folks, saying the relationship wasn't good for me, that I was being taken for a ride. Everybody tried to shut the little rotter up but he wouldn't stop.

This was a drip, drip, drip of poison and it was bound to have an effect in the end.

Tim is absolutely heartbroken. I'm not sure if you've ever met him, but he is a little fair-haired boy I know. He keeps telling me that it's not too late for me to change my mind and spends his day crying in a corner saying it's not fair and stamping his feet. I just ignore him.

Don't worry about me. I think I will be able to manage alone. All of my life, I have had the feeling that I am somehow apart from others, as if there is a physical gulf between us. And anyway, I'm not actually going to be alone as I'm planning to make lots of new friends. The other day I met a man called Donald - ha, ha, coincidence, or what - and he held my hand. As he did so, I felt a charge of electricity throughout my entire body. Unlike you, this Donald is so exciting. He has an air of danger. You never know what he is going to say or do next!

David and George send their regards by the way. I don't know what they're doing now, I've not seen much of them.

Enough of me, Donald, What are you going to do? You will have your gang around to support you through the break-up. We have to be frank and realistic, and I want you to know that I will not be jealous if you find somebody new.

As it happens, I think I'll be able to help you with that. When I get a chance, I'm going to introduce you to a good friend of mine. The best of it is that I know that she has a bit of a thing for you.

Her name is Nicola.

I think you are made for each other. In all fairness though I'd better warn you that Nicola doesn't have as much money as me.

Oh dear, I might have put the kibosh on it already. Oops!

So, farewell Donald. It did not have to finish like this but, as they say, all good things must come to an end.

It was great while it lasted, and I'll always have special feelings for you.

All the best for the future.

Must dash, got lots to do,

Assuring you of my everlasting affection,

Theresa.