one for the boys
letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner
Dear Audrey:
I know the counsellor 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 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. 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 mom we met at Pontins last year?
Well,
she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagne. 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 fuelled 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 let me know, otherwise, can you
let me know where the Sky remote control is.
John
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