ak1971
03-23-2005, 05:25 PM
Dear Connie,
>
>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, Connie." 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 Flamingos 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. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit.
>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 Connie?
>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 nagging 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 to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing
>feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, 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 the Holiday Inn lounge
>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 Connie 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 toy."
>
>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 advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling
>for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O
>shots in a hot bubble 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, 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, Connie. In your heart you must know
>it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances
>away 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 ****ing remote is.
>
>Love, Dan.
>
>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, Connie." 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 Flamingos 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. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit.
>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 Connie?
>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 nagging 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 to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing
>feels the same without you. Jesus, Connie, 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 the Holiday Inn lounge
>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 Connie 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 toy."
>
>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 advice about you and about women in general. She's pulling
>for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're doing Jell-O
>shots in a hot bubble 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, 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, Connie. In your heart you must know
>it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances
>away 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 ****ing remote is.
>
>Love, Dan.