The Best Reconciliation Letter EVER!

A letter written by a heartbroken man to his estranged partner

Dear Audrey:

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, 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 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 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 mom we met at Pontins

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, 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

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, 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 remote control is.

John