Singing his old song, "Fun, fun, fun, your Daddy's on the run!" John headed for the door as he finished off his drink.
My eyes fogged with tears that wouldn't stop, I swiped them away in a blinded rage yelling, "But you said we were soul mates, friends forever more!"
It was as if he hadn't even heard me. What in hell had happened to him. Where was the man I loved so much for so long?
In a desperate attempt I followed him around as he packed his overnight bag.
It's wasn't like me to beg, but I was ready to if need be, instead I continued to yell.
"Before you slam that damn door for the last time, think twice, how many times I've told you, 'I love you, and that you're the best man I know'. Does that mean ANYTHING to you?'."
Not believing my eyes, I watched him walk away from me, leave me crying prostrate on the floor, feeling barely alive, empty inside, not caring if I lived or died.
I called John later thinking maybe I had misunderstood, that he was simply overworked, maybe going through a mid-life crisis--drinking too much. What the hell, I just didn't know.
Sure our sex life was for shit, but that was him, not me. I made the best of it and let my vibrator take up the slack so he didn't feel any pressure. But now, now I was really pissed off, here I'd been going without and all along, he was giving what should have been mine to some slut on the side.
His bored 'not so happy to hear me voice' answered. I blurted out like a school girl, "I can't believe you'd leave like this, How could you do this to me John. It's not just my heart, you took my trust, you betrayed me, lied to me. Cheated on me with my own employee. Don't you know, you never shit in your own nest? Your daddy should have taught you that much . . . ."
The bastard hung up on me. Tears streamed down my face. I looked at the mess in the mirror and said to it, "No one gets my heart again I vow."
I slept fitfully for a few hours, and then wrote him a letter:
Dear John,
You like variety. Here's an idea for you. Take my body without my heart and mind. Play with it in your imagination and have a grand old fun, fun, fun, one last time.
I won't be present, I'll be off like you, in my fantasy world, enjoying a great man who enjoys me too. Unlike you, he will have all of me. Body and soul. My heart too.
He'll treat me right, kiss my tears away, love me with all his might--hold me throughout the night, pet my head as he looks at me with worshipful eyes. You get the idea.
In the morning I'll shower with him, wash his back, cook him breakfast, bring his paper and sit on his lap. I'll rub his shoulders and kiss his neck, comb his hair and trim it up nice too. Shave his face and then test it with mine. Iron his favorite shirt and shine his shoes. Match up his socks.
I'll write a poem for him before he leaves for work. Tuck it in his lunch to read at noon. I'll call him for a sex chat in mid-day, make him cum all over his desk--release his bad stress-- give that man something to come home for, a fine woman who's craved him all day long, who needs his good loving bad.
And if I ever tire of all that crap, I'll look you up and leave my heart home, call you for a wild crazy time, break your heart in two like you broke mine, then leave you all alone to miss me, to think about the trust you've broken and what you lost forever.
In the meantime, get the hell out of my life.
Not yours so truly anymore,
Christina
***************
To Be Continued: A Dear John Letter (Part 2)
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Submitted by:
Babe
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