I know that the lawyers said that we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore.
The day you left, I swore that I would never talk to you again, but that was the injured little boy in me. Still I never wanted to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride has cost me alot 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 that we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurts.
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 are not you. They aren't 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, just to illustrate my depth of desparation. 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. **** like you wouldn't believe and an ***** that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream right?
As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at this stuff that we have made so important in our lives. It is 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 am getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderatly attractive Connie. I doubt it. And I never really thought of it before. I don't know, maybe I am growing up a little. Later, after I'd tossed her about a half a pint of throat yougurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't her flawless technique or her 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 that I had probably not been eating right since there wasn't a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that is not the real story. Well, we had a few glasses of wine and next thing you know we are banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart's a total monster in the sack. She is giving me everything like a real woman does, you know like when your not hung up on her weight or her career or whether or not the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden, she spots the 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 go at it. And it's totally hot, but it makes me sad, because I can't help thinking, "Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor?" We had this old vanity for what,14 years, and we never used it like this.
Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki's just a kid and all but she has a real good head on her shoulders and as been a true friend to me during this painful time. She has given me some good advice about you and just women in general. She is pulling for us to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we are doing Jello shots in a hot bubble bath and talking about happier times. Here's this 18 year old girl with the same DNA as you, and all I can think about is how she reminds me of you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out that Vicky is really into the whole butt thing, that gets me to thinking about all the times I pressured you to try it and it probably cause alot of the bitterness between us. But do you see how even then, when I am inside your sister's cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you? It's true Connie. In your heart you must know it. Do you think that we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think that we can. If you do then just please, please, please, let me know.
If not can you let me know where the damn remote is.
Love,Dan
"Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body,
but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and proclaiming ---WOW--- What A Ride! "