joeSoap
08/01/2004, 10:35 AM
Heartbroken Letter. Brilliant stuff. *** A must read ***
A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner.
Dear Audrey:
I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our
"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore
I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me
talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact.
In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me.I
guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of
things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking
bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as oneof us does.
Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is
what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Audrey."
I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not
you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingoes
and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to
illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19, with one of
those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating
can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Jugs you wouldn't believe and an
ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream, right? But as sat on the couch
being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made
important in our lives.
t's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her
better in bed? Well, in this case, yes. But you see what I'm getting at.
Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my
moderately attractive Audrey? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of
that before.
I Don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed
her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself
thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless
techniqueor her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some niggling
feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It
didn't feel the same because you weren't there, Audrey, to watch. Do you
know what I mean?
Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Audrey, I'm just going crazy
without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mum we met at Pontins last year? Well,
she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I
wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant
till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of
wine and the next thing you know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And
this tart's a total monster in the sack.She's giving me everything, you know
like a real woman does when
she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting mirror on your
grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it,
right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad
too. 'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Audrey ever put the mirror
on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never
used it as a sex aid."
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I
mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her
shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during thispainful time. She's
given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. She's
pulling for us to get back together, Audrey, She really is.
So we're drinking in a hot bath and talking about happier times. Here's this
teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much
she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And
then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing and that gets me
to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how
that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how
even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all
I can do is think of you?
It's true, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don't you think we could start
over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh?
I think we can. If you feel the same please please please let me know,
otherwise, can you let me know where the Sky remote control is.
John
A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner.
Dear Audrey:
I know the counselor said we shouldn't contact each other during our
"cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I swore
I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded little boy in me
talking. Still, I never wanted to be the first one to make contact.
In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me.I
guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride's cost me a lot of
things. I'm tired of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking
bad anymore. I don't care who makes the first move as long as oneof us does.
Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is
what my heart says... "There's no one like you, Audrey."
I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they're not
you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingoes
and brought her home with me. I don't say this to hurt you, but just to
illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, maybe 19, with one of
those perfect bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating
can give you. I mean, just a perfect body. Jugs you wouldn't believe and an
ass like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream, right? But as sat on the couch
being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made
important in our lives.
t's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her
better in bed? Well, in this case, yes. But you see what I'm getting at.
Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my
moderately attractive Audrey? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought of
that before.
I Don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed
her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself
thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless
techniqueor her slutty, shameless hunger, but something else. Some niggling
feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It
didn't feel the same because you weren't there, Audrey, to watch. Do you
know what I mean?
Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Audrey, I'm just going crazy
without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.
Do you remember Carol, that single mum we met at Pontins last year? Well,
she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I
wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant
till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of
wine and the next thing you know we're banging away in our old bedroom. And
this tart's a total monster in the sack.She's giving me everything, you know
like a real woman does when
she's not hung up about her weight or her career and whether the kids can
hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting mirror on your
grandmother's old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it,
right, so we can watch ourselves. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad
too. 'Cause I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Audrey ever put the mirror
on the floor? We've had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never
used it as a sex aid."
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I
mean, Vicky's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her
shoulders and she's been a real friend to me during thispainful time. She's
given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. She's
pulling for us to get back together, Audrey, She really is.
So we're drinking in a hot bath and talking about happier times. Here's this
teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much
she looked like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And
then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal thing and that gets me
to thinking about how many times I pressured you about trying it and how
that probably fueled some of the bitterness between us. But do you see how
even then, when I'm thrusting inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all
I can do is think of you?
It's true, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don't you think we could start
over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh?
I think we can. If you feel the same please please please let me know,
otherwise, can you let me know where the Sky remote control is.
John