hey everyone, i wonder if the guy got her back lol

Dear Connie,



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, Connie." 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 Flamingos 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. **** like you wouldn't believe and an *** that
just wouldn't quit. 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 Connie? 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 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
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 Connie 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 toy."



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 advice about you and about women in general. She's
pulling for us to get back together, Connie, she really is. So we're doing
Jell-O shots in a hot bubble 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 **** thing, 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, Connie. In your heart you must know
it. Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances
away 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 ****ing remote is at?



Love, Dave.

 

Thats f@cked up

 

Thats amazing, what every guy is thinking, or wishes would happen, but is way to afraid to admit. It cant be real...

 

i didnt read it all but that was messed..wow im happy im not in a relationship anymore

 

i read that a few years ago on some othe forum. it's still hilarious.

 

[sm=icon_rofl.gif]
if i were ever to suffer another nasty breakup, thats how i would want to come out

 

cliff notes?

 

The dude is trying to make it look like he's writing an appologetic letter to his wife with whom he recently seperated

He tells her about all these fantastic sexual experiences he's having since their seperation (including one where he pounded his wife's sister in the ***), but then adding things like "...but it only reminded me of you" to make it seem appologetic.

Then just read the last paragraph..


Very funny stuff!