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 one of 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 I sat on the couch being

 

blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in

 

our lives. It's all so superfic ial. 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 technique or 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 withou t 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 mom 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 this painful 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 w ere 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

PMSL!! :rofl: Brilliant!

:rofl: well that brightened up a wet miserable grey afternoon

You lot laughing at me? :rofl:

Brilliant!!!!!:D :rofl: :D

thought that'd be the thinking level of this group ;)

:D :rofl: :rofl: :D

Originally posted by Jay

thought that'd be the thinking level of this group ;)

not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not :p ;) :D

Excellent. Thank you.:D