Best Divorce Letter Ever

"Best Divorce Letter Ever"

Dear Connie,

I know the counselor said we should not contact each
other during our cooling off period; however,
I could not wait anymore.

The day you left, I swore I would 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.
However, now that I see that my pride has cost me
many things, I am tired of pretending I do not miss you.
I do not care about looking bad anymore. I do not care
who makes the first move as long as one of us does.
Maybe it is time we let our hearts speak as loudly as out hurt.

This is what my hearts says, There is 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 are not even close.

Two weeks ago, I met this girl at the Flamingo and
brought her home with me. I do not say this to hurt you,
but rather to illustrate the depth of my desperation. She
was young, maybe nineteen; 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 would not believe and an arse that would
not quit. Every man's dream, right?

As I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought,
look at the stuff we have make important in our lives. It is
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 am getting at. Does it make her a better person?
Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive
Connie does? I doubt it. I guess I had never really thought
of that before. I do not know; maybe I am just growing up a little.

Later, after I had tossed her about a half pint of throat yogurt,
I found myself thinking, Why do I feel so drained and empty.
It was not just her flawless technique or her slutty, shameless
hunger, but rather something else. Some nagging feeling of
loss. Why did it feel so incomplete? Then it hit me. It did not
feel the same because you were not there to watch. Do you
understand what I mean? Nothing feels the same without
you. Jesus, Connie, I am just going crazy without you.
Everything I do reminds me of you.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom that 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 was not eating
right without a woman around. I did not know what she meant
until later, but that is not the real story. Anyway, we had a few
glasses of wine and the next thing you know, we are banging
away in our old bedroom. This tart is a total monster in the
sack. She is giving me everything, you know, as a real woman
does when she is not hung up about her weight or her career
and whether the kids can hear us, etc. Suddenly, she spots
that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. She puts it
on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves.

It is totally hot, but it makes me sad too because I cannot stop
thinking, Why didn't Connie ever put the mirror on the floor?
We had that mirror for fourteen years and never once used it
as a sex toy.

Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining
order. I mean Vicki is just a kid and all, but she has a pretty
good head on her shoulders. She has been a real friend
to me during this painful time. Vicki has given me lots of
good advice about you and about women in general. She
is pulling for us to get back together, Connie. She really is.

Before long, we are doing Jell-O shots in a hot bubble bath
and talking about happier times. Here is this teenage girl
with the same DNA as you and all I can think is how much
she looked like you when you were eighteen years old.
Now, that just makes me cry. Then, it turns out that Vicki is
really into the whole anal thing. That started me thinking
about how many times I had pressured you about trying it
and how that probably fueled some of the bitterness between
us. Nevertheless, do you see how even then, when I am
thrusting inside you sister's cinnamon ring, all I can think
of is you? It is true, Connie. In your heart, you must know it also.

Do you think we could start over? Just wipe out all of the
grievances away and start fresh. I think we can. If you feel
the same, please, please, let me know.

Otherwise, can you let me know where the bloody remote is?

Love,

Dan
Received on Fri Jun 6 09:29:38 2008