Love Letter To My Ex....
Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2004 6:47 pm
Hello chaps.
Back again for a short period.
So anyway, Having split with the other half, I decided to pen a letter to express my feelings.
As we are all friends on here, even the newbies who popped up after I left and are thinking "Who the fuck is he"? & also all the birds that say "Oooh big boy, come and check my web cam show Mmm I'm so hot for you lover...spam....spam...spam turns me on sooo much"
So, as we're all friends and I value your opinions, be pals and read it and see if it's worthy of a tax hiked stamp and envelope. I can do nice Manilla or cheesy brown British Gas prepaid with the name crossed out. Either, I'm easy and don't mind.
Dear Audrey:
I know the counsellor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait any more. 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 any more. 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 21, 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 arse 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 Butlins 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, 10 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 19yr old girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 19. 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 younger 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.
All My Love
Holden
There you have it folks.
If that doesn't work, I'm getting on my bike and doing Holden's Road Strips in the vain hope I can get busted by two WPC's.
p.s Did you miss me?
Back again for a short period.
So anyway, Having split with the other half, I decided to pen a letter to express my feelings.
As we are all friends on here, even the newbies who popped up after I left and are thinking "Who the fuck is he"? & also all the birds that say "Oooh big boy, come and check my web cam show Mmm I'm so hot for you lover...spam....spam...spam turns me on sooo much"
So, as we're all friends and I value your opinions, be pals and read it and see if it's worthy of a tax hiked stamp and envelope. I can do nice Manilla or cheesy brown British Gas prepaid with the name crossed out. Either, I'm easy and don't mind.
Dear Audrey:
I know the counsellor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait any more. 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 any more. 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 21, 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 arse 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 Butlins 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, 10 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 19yr old girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looked like you when you were 19. 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 younger 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.
All My Love
Holden
There you have it folks.
If that doesn't work, I'm getting on my bike and doing Holden's Road Strips in the vain hope I can get busted by two WPC's.
p.s Did you miss me?