| I never do this...But this was fucking hysterical...throat yogurt...lol... |
[Jan. 13th, 2006|01:39 pm] |
Dear Terri,
Im writing this from a lonely fishing lodge up in Montana. The past few weeks have been so empty and hollow with us not together.
I know the counselor said we shouldnt contact each other during our cooling off period, but I couldnt wait anymore. The day you left, I swore Id 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 prides cost me a lot of things. Im tired of pretending I dont miss you. I dont care about looking bad anymore. I dont care who makes the first move as long as one of us does. Maybe its time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says "Theres no one like you, Terri."
I look for you in the eyes & breasts of every woman I see, but theyre not you. Theyre not even close. Two weeks ago I met this woman at the Rainbow Room and brought her home with me. I dont say this to hurt you, but just to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She was young, Terri, 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. Tits you wouldnt believe and an ass like a tortoise shell and skin like baby powder rubbed on a soft inflated balloon. Every mans dream, right?
But as I sat on the couch being blown by this coed I thought, look at the stuff weve made important in our lives. Its 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 Im getting at? Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Terri? I doubt it. And Id never really thought of that before. I dont know, maybe Im growing up a little.
Later, after Id tossed her about a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking. "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasnt just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless hunger for my bodily fluids, but something else. Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It didnt feel the same because you werent there, Terri, to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you, baby. My God, Terri, Im just going crazy without you.
And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at Mt. Sinai Baptist Church? Well, she drops by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasnt eating right without a woman around. I didnt know what she meant until later, but thats not the real story. Anyway, we have a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know were fucking in our old bedroom. And this ladys a total monster in the sack. Shes giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when shes not hung up about God and her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden she spots that tilting mirror on your grandmothers old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it is totally hot, but it makes me sad, too. Cause I cant help thinking, "Why didnt Terri ever put the mirror on the floor? Weve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex aid." (Some of this I thought about later.) You know what I mean? What happened to our spontaneity? You get so caught up in the routine of a marriage you just lose sight of each other. And then you lose yourself. Thats the saddest part of all for me.
But I keep thinking we can get it back. I know we can, because I only want this stuff with you. Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Shannons just a kid and all, but shes got a pretty good head on her shoulders. Shes been a real friend to me during this painful time. Shes given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. (Shes pulling for us to get back together, Terri. She really is.)
So were drinking wine in the hot tub and talking about happier times. Heres this unselfish girl with the same DNA as you (although, lets face it, she got an extra helping of the sex gene) and all I can do is think of how much she looks like you when you were 20. And that just about makes me cry.
And then it turns out Shannons really into the whole doggy style 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 Im thrusting inside the steaming Dutch oven of your sisters hot wetness, all I can do is think of you? Its true baby. In your heart you know it.
Dont you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think we can. I keep thinking that I think if youd just try it, I wouldnt have to pressure you so much. Because who needs all that bitterness, Terri. It just tears us apart and I cant be apart from you. In a few weeks when I am back from fishing we should do our best to meet and talk about it.
Because I love you. |
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