What Can One Say?

What can one say!!

> >

> >Long but really worth the 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 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 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 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 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 Pregos 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 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 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

>