With the Lakers ready to put away the San Antonio Spurs, the reigning NBA champions, Kobe Bryant is on the doorstep of solidifying his status as one of the three or 4 greatest basketball players of all time.

Kobe is finally winning without Shaq, a monkey on Kobe's back that has allowed skeptics to always say, "He hasn't won shit without The Diesel." Which is true. He still hasn't won a damn thing without The Big Man to play off of.

And I'll admit it. I really dislike Kobe. I use dislike because hate is too strong a word. I don't really hate anybody but Osama Bin Laden, Hitler, and my 8th grade science teacher. But to me he's confident to a fault. His swagger is more Sherminator than it is Shaft. His mannerisms seem forced, contrived, and pre-conceived. There's something constructed and inauthentic about him that just gets under my skin.

Add the legions of Laker fans to the mix? Well, you get the picture.

But yeah. He's really about to turn me around. I respect Kobe for his basketball skill. He is undeniably the premiere NBA player in the league today. He's unstoppable.

I also find it pretty ironic that this season turned out to be his first MVP season, considering this is easily the strongest team Los Angeles has fielded since the departure of Shaq to Miami.

Congrats, Kobe. I can't really hate anymore. But I will continue to dislike you.

Sometimes you have to get lost in order to truly appreciate home.

It's official. I'm staying put until I get kicked out.

Suicide has crossed my mind.

Sometimes I scare myself.

But I have too much to fight for.

Would it fix anything?

Probably not.

But least you wouldn't have to wonder.

I just want it to stop.

I'm tired of the insecurity.

I'm tired from the pain.

I'm weary.

I probably couldn't kill myself anyway.

This is probably a cry for attention.

But this isn't about me.

It's about you.

And I can't control that.

It's not your fault.

It's mine.

And I wish I could take control.

But there's no way I could possibly do that.

Except suicide.

I woudln't do it.

But it's crossed my mind.

And I'm scared.

Not because I might kill myself.

But because I don't know if you'll ever come back.

And if you don't?

I couldn't commit suicide.

Because I'd simply lose any reason to live.

And I'd already be dead.

Regardless of what happens between your mom and I, I wanted to let you know that you saved my life.

You are the reason why I was able to get up everyday and do what I had to do. You allowed me to focus my energy into something that was a continuous project way into the future rather than the short-lived "now". You. Because back then, that's all I was about. The moment. I had no vision into the future. I didn't know where I would be a month into the future. I didn't care.

But then you came along and changed all that.

You are very special. I push you so hard because I know you can be something special to many people. I feel as if there is so much I want to prepare you for because I want you to reach your full potential. Then I remember to step back and let you be a kid. So I do.

And that's why I'm writing this. I can't tell you this right now, because you wouldn't understand. But regardless of what happens between your mom and I, I want you to know that we both love you and your sister very much. It was and will never be your fault that you mom and I fight, or yell, or cry. You will always be the reason why we worked. You'll be the reason why we tried so hard to make it work. You'll be the reason why we finally grew up and realized what it takes to be adults. We would do anything for you. Anything.

You're the reason why we know love.