{"id":101,"date":"2004-01-28T00:03:00","date_gmt":"2004-01-28T07:03:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/blog\/?p=101"},"modified":"2004-01-28T00:03:00","modified_gmt":"2004-01-28T07:03:00","slug":"101","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/?p=101","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a name=\"107527342079068945\"><span class=\"post\">don&#8217;t worry&#8230;this isn&#8217;t from my anthology&#8230;<\/p>\n<p><strong>A letter written by a heartbroken man to his<br \/>estranged partner<br \/><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Dear Audrey:<\/p>\n<p>I know the counselor said we shouldn&#8217;t contact each other during our &#8220;cooling off&#8221; period, but I couldn&#8217;t wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I&#8217;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&#8217;s cost me a lot of things. I&#8217;m tired of pretending I don&#8217;t miss you. I don&#8217;t care about looking bad anymore. I don&#8217;t care who makes the first move as long as one of us does.<\/p>\n<p>Maybe it&#8217;s time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says&#8230; &#8220;There&#8217;s no one like you, Audrey.&#8221; I look for you in the eyes and breasts of every woman I see, but they&#8217;re not you.<\/p>\n<p>They&#8217;re not even close.<\/p>\n<p>Two weeks ago, I met this girl at Flamingoes and brought her home with me. I don&#8217;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&#8217;t believe and an ass like a tortoise shell. Every man&#8217;s dream, right? But as I sat on the couch being blown by this stunner, I thought, look at the stuff we&#8217;ve made important in our lives. It&#8217;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&#8217;m getting at.<br \/>Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Audrey? I doubt it. And I&#8217;d never really thought of that before.<\/p>\n<p>I Don&#8217;t know, maybe I&#8217;m just growing up a little. Later, after I&#8217;d tossed her about a half a pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, &#8220;Why do I feel so drained and empty?&#8221; It wasn&#8217;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&#8217;t feel the same because you weren&#8217;t there, Audrey, to watch. Do you know what I mean? Nothing feels the same without you. Jesus, Audrey, I&#8217;m just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you.<\/p>\n<p>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&#8217;t eating right without a woman around. I didn&#8217;t know what she meant till later, but that&#8217;s not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we&#8217;re banging away in our old bedroom. And this tart&#8217;s a total monster in the sack. She&#8217;s giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when she&#8217;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&#8217;s old vanity. So she puts it on the floor and we straddle it, right, so we can watch ourselves. And it&#8217;s totally hot, but it makes me sad too. &#8216;Cause I can&#8217;t help thinking, &#8220;Why didn&#8217;t Audrey ever put the mirror on the floor? We&#8217;ve had this old vanity for what, 14 years, and we never used it as a sex aid.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>Saturday, your sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicky&#8217;s just a kid and all, but she&#8217;s got a pretty good head on her shoulders and she&#8217;s been a real friend to me during this painful time. She&#8217;s given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. She&#8217;s pulling for us to get back together, Audrey, She really is. So we&#8217;re drinking in a hot bath and talking about happier times. Here&#8217;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&#8217;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&#8217;m thrusting inside your baby sister&#8217;s cinnamon ring, all I can do is think of you?<\/p>\n<p>It&#8217;s true, Audrey. In your heart you know it. Don&#8217;t you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think we can.<\/p>\n<p>If you feel the same please, please, please let me know, otherwise, can you let me know where the remote control is.<\/p>\n<p>(I don&#8217;t know who wrote this &#8211; 3amW)<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>don&#8217;t worry&#8230;this isn&#8217;t from my anthology&#8230; A letter written by a heartbroken man to hisestranged partner Dear Audrey: I know the counselor said we shouldn&#8217;t contact each other during our &#8220;cooling off&#8221; period, but I couldn&#8217;t wait anymore. The day you left, I swore I&#8217;d never talk to you again. But that was just the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-101","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/sbl5mn-101","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/101","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=101"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/101\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=101"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=101"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/juliashih.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=101"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}