An Open Letter, A Broken Soul

[Capt. DooDah]

My Dearest Kathleen:

I know the counsellor said we shouldn't contact each other during our "cooling off" period, but I couldn't wait anymore. The day you left, I know I swore I'd never talk to you again. But that was just the wounded and scared little boy in me talking. I didn't want to be the first one to make contact because, in my stupid macho fantasies, it was always you who would come crawling back to me. I allowed my selfish male pride to cloud reality.
But now Kathleen I can see just how much that foolish pride, that damned ridiculous pride has cost me.
I can no longer carry on the facade of pretending I don't miss you. I don't care about looking weak. It's not important to me who makes the first move anymore. Just as long as we're moving back towards each other. It's time Kathleen that we both let our hearts speak out as loudly as we have let our pain.
My heart is speaking out. Can you hear it my love? Can you hear it saying, "It's you Kathleen"? "It's you. It's always been you. You and only you. For now. For ever. Endlessly throughout the eons of time" I see you only in the eyes and in the supple firm breasts of every woman I see. But they're not you, No! they're not even close to you.

Like this girl I met just two weeks ago at The Palms Ghost Bar. Even after I drugged her, and shoved the bitch in the trunk of my car then brought home with me. I knew it wasn't you. My Dearest Kathleen I'm not saying this to try and hurt you. No. But only to illustrate the immense depth of my desperation.
She was just a day or so over 18, with one of those picture perfect little hard bodies that only youth and maybe a childhood spent ice skating can give young naive girl handcuffed in the trunk of a Buick. And I mean, just a perfect, a goddamn perfect fucking hard little body. With the cutest, yummy titties you just wouldn't fucking believe. Ooooh and that ass like a hard polished tortoise shell.
What every man can only dream about, right? Yet, as I knelt down on the couch forcing my rigid cock down the throat of this frightened little piece of fuck meat I was looking at all the stuff you and I had considered important to our lives, and I thought to myself, "How superficial. What does a sweet Barbi-Doll perfect body really mean anyway? Does it make tearing up her virgin cunt feel any better?" (Well, in this case it really did. But you can see what I'm getting at here.) "Does that body make her a sweeter more beautiful person? Does it make looking at her fear ridden china doll face and asking if she likes her barely legal twat force fucked? all that more satisfying? Does it mean she has a better heart, a better mind than my own moderately attractive and ageing Kathleen? I doubt it." Until that moment, I had never really given something like that much thought before. I don't know, I guess I'm just maturing.
And then, later on, after I had made her guzzle down about a half-gallon of warm creamy throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained...so empty?" It wasn't just her fantastic cock gargling or the way she struggled like a little slut, crying in shame as I crammed her full off cock the second time I raped her. No. It was something else I felt. Some sort of strange feeling of loss and despair. Why did it all feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. It wasn't you! It was because you wasn't you there on the couch Kathleen. There on the couch, down on the other end watching me fuck that young girl you'll never be again. In fact never even came close to even when you were that young.
You know kinda what I mean, right? Not that it ever did with you. But nothing just seems to feel the same to me anymore.
Jesus Christ Kathleen! I really am going crazy without you. Can't you see how I'm suffering here? I mean, you can see how everything I do just reminds me more of you. And I know you gotta understand how that tortures me.

Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at the neighborhood watch meeting last month? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. Said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't get what she meant by that until later on in the evening, but that's not the point I'm getting at here.
We had a few glasses of wine and next thing you know, like a drunken sailor on shore leave I'm raping the shit outta her in our old bedroom. And when I see this bitch is tied to the bed posts. She looked like a goddess. I never felt my cock throb so hard. And she is giving me everything I demand, you know like a real woman does when she's not hung up about her weight or her career or whether the kids can hear us.
Then all of a sudden I spot that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. And I get a really swell idea. I put the mirror on the floor and force her to straddle it, right, so she can watch herself getting raped. And it was so totally hot, but it also made me feel little sad too. 'Cause I couldn't stop thinking, "Why didn't I ever put that mirror on the floor while I was cock cramming Kathleen's cunt? We had this old vanity for what,14 years, and we never once used it as a sex aid."

And then last Saturday, your little sister drops by with my copy of the restraining order. I tell you Kathleen. Courtney's just a 18 year old 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. Giving me lots of real good advise about you and about all women in general. She's pulling for us to get back together, Kathleen, she really is.
So anyways, there we were drinking having a real nice time. I got her hands tied behind her back with her bra, her torn panties shoved in her mouth and we're enjoying a hot bath, talking about the happier times. And then it hits me Kathleen. Here's this scared little teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think of how much she looks like you did when you were 18 and it just about makes me cry.
And then it turns out Courtney's never really been introduced to the whole anal rape thing. That gets me thinking about all the times I pressured you to try it and I wondered if maybe that had fuelled some of the bitterness between us. But even then, while I'm pounding my cock hard and deep up inside your baby sister's cinnamon ring, all I can think about is you. It's true, Kathleen. In your heart you know it is.

Don't you think we could give "us" one more chance to work things out? Toss out the bad memories, put our grievances aside and start fresh? I know we can. I so want us to at least take another shot at it.
If you feel the same then please, please, please let me know. Your love means so much more to me now. My life means nothing without you.
Otherwise, if not. I'll try to carry on without you, my love, my heart, my soul, my life's breath, my Kathleen.

But I beg of you. Please find it in your heart to grant me one small and finale request. It's the only way I'll be able to face the shallow despair my life shall forever be. Please tell me Kathleen. Please just let me know, my angel of angels Kathleen... Where.... Where Kathleen.... you put the goddamn TV remote you Stupid Fucking Cunt??!!!!

Forever Yours
Jonathan




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[Jezebel]

My lady....I almost couldn't see through the haze of tears over my eyes as I read this. But I could see enough.


bravo......bravo

[slingjack]

You dont fool me man,I know you stll love her.Excellent post you should be proud...