A Letter From "dear John"

[Khutan]

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 yoghurt, 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 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 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 pay TV remote control is.

John