Gutted

Dear John,

I am dying inside. I'm trying to play it cool but really- I am absolutely gutted.

Always

Dear Joan,

You are my beautiful baby. I was heartless and inexcusable. But you forgave me. And now you reach for my hand. When I remember what I almost lost, I swear my heart beats in reverse.

My dreams are spent dancing with you. My days spent aching to come home to you. I long to wake to your laugh, your skin, and your curls underneath my lips.

I think I learned to love because of you.

I love and miss you always,

Joan

Found

Yes. Totally... tenderly... tragically.

Dear John,

We watch movies from beginning to end now. We agreed that the bed needs one more pillow, so that we both can arrange them to our liking. I no longer have a garage because paying rent for a parking space I never used was no longer relevant. You still dance for me, and I still sing you silly songs. You still bring my enchiladas for lunch, although I probably don't make them as often as you'd like. But now I don't need to write letters addressed to someone else to tell you that I love you, not since that night you wrapped your arms around me, as an '80's cover band played a song by Poison behind us, and screamed, "I don't know if I should say this yet, but I'm falling madly in love you." (Which, oddly enough, happened the night I wrote that letter about watching your pupils engorge themselves with beautiful blackness.) Now, I say "I love you" everyday. And now, you come with me to take out the recycling.

Love, me

Yes, you should ask.

Dear Joany,

I'm bored of the games and the weird confusions. I'm tired of not knowing whether to make the move. I'm confused as to how you would take it. Last week in my room I wanted to strip you slowly and peel your dress away inch by beautiful inch. You know who I am and how I would love you. You know my name and my number that eagerly waits.

Just lately you see me and I'm not being my self.
I'm quiet and boring as I don't know how to act. I know it's difficult with our myriad relationships but I want you so badly. I don't care the consequence. Let me know, should I make a move? Should I dare to ask? I want you in my bed.

Blind

Dear John(s),

I've really learned my lesson this time.

I wanted to trust you. I wanted to believe that you wouldn't ever compromise my happiness for your own selfish desires. I gave you the unwavering benefit of the doubt despite that ever morsel of my intuition was pointing in the other direction. I realize now that I've been really blind. I don't know how I ever thought that you were over it and that somehow this would never be an issue. Well, I was wrong. I was really wrong. And you want to know what's worse? I think you were even more delusional than I was. You were manipulative without even knowing it. To think about all the things you said, and more importantly did not say, when he talked to you about this. You couldn't just have asked to not be part of it like you did with me. Intentional or not, it's irrelevant.

And the sad truth is that now you've lost my trust, and what the hell is friendship without trust? It's nothing, it's a broken shadow, it's fake smiles, it's sleeping with one eye open. I can't do that. I won't.

You both are going to realize that you each of you made some pretty selfish decisions, and it'll be too late. You can have each other.

I'm gone, but I will always always land on my feet.

This is the last time I am blind.

Come back to bed

Dear Joan,

Come back to my bed.

Hold me close, don't turn your back just hold me.
Spank me, tease me, bite me and stroke me.
Take me apart, use your tongue, use my tongue.
Cup me, cuddle me, confuse me and control me.

Just come back to my bed and this time don't turn your back.

So true

An easy life I would lead without you, Johns.

Poland meets Croydon

Dear John,

Weeks and I know you entirely. You are the poster child for marijuana. You have weird hair and a completely disheveled wardrobe. I don’t understand most words you say. You work only to play. You have been at least an hour late for every one of our dates. But somehow, John, you possess so much more than any other John. You are proficient in showing your adoration. You shower me with seemingly ordinary gifts like a bag of fruit or a page ripped from an old book. You take me to your favorite grassy oasis rather than a pretentious restaurant. You live as though sunshine is consistently beaming upon you, and I yearn for your energy. If only I could apprehend my ambivalence, I would be yours wholly; but I’m distracted by the John who cannot extend his love beyond the ocean and the John who’s afraid to fight. I’m distracted by the John I think may be dead and the John I wish would wake up.

To my cockroach ex-wife

best of craigslist > chicago > To my cockroach ex-wife

Date: 2009-08-11, 5:02AM CDT

Dear Whore of Lucifer:

I have recently enrolled in a 12-step program for people whose lives were decimated and finances ruined by lawyer bills when their spouses filed for divorce after finding someone else to fuck and run off with. I am currently up to Step 8: Willingness to Make Amends. As such, I apologize for the following recent transgressions:

Told the drunk at the bar who wanted a Red-Headed Slut that he's more than welcome to you if that general contractor douchebag is done with you.

Annoyed the staff at several hospitals by calling to see if they had any fresh organ donors on hand with a heart suitable to replace your cold, dead one.

Demanded a refund from Southwest Airlines because I tried to get you on one of their planes but they refused to let my bag fly free as advertised in their TV commercials.

Scrawled your cell number in the stall of the john of the bar at the American Legion post down the street with an offer of free prostate exams for all veterans 65 and older.

Told my neighborhood U.S. Marine Corps recruiter that I knew the exact location of the dank, hopeless cave Osama Bin Laden was hiding in and provided the GPS coordinates to your pants.

Lit several offering candles at your church with prayers that karma would hurry its ass up and come around to you while I was still alive to see it.

For these things, my dear handmaiden of Satan, I make my amends. I'd still love to see your head squeezed in a vice until your eyeballs squirt out of their sockets, but I have to go along with the program.

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Tight around the thighs

Dear Joan

I just want to fuck you so badly.

Every time you walk into a room your mere presence drives me insane with wanting. When I sit and watch your gently curved, pouting lips all I can do is imagine them tasting me, tasting you. It would lead to so many questions and heartache and yet more confusion but seeing you in that dress cinched tight around your thighs just confirms what I've always known...

Signals

Dear Joans,

I really do have a problem reading your signals. Are you even sending any signals?

I'd love to go swimming with the shark or drinking in the hay but I just don't know, I really don't know.

If only one Joan could just grab me and show me I would very much appreciate it.

Decision

dear john,

where are we at? where do we stand? aren't you tired of this weird merry go round?no more games, no more crazy talk, no more useless complications...so here it goes. i want you for my own every damn moment of the day, i want to feel you close to me in the morning and even closer at night, i want to laugh with you until we grow old and then laugh some more, i want to run through the house with you and play backgammon on the front porch, i want to lay naked in the sun with you and act silly with no care in the world, i want to lose myself completely in you until you lose yourself completely in me...
i love you john...

I think about you.

Dear John,

I know that we don't know each other well but I think you're a really weird kind of guy. You ignore me when I'm walking behind you, you stand next to me but don't acknowledge I'm there, you don't talk to me directly but you keep me within your line of vision. You make me feel strange and you're attractive to me. I think about you a lot. I think about the red string between us and how you've remained in the outskirts of my life for a couple years. I have really vivid dreams about you. We're always sitting in a green chair that I have in my room.

I shouldn't bother following you around town but I bet I will. The beginning of winter is sort of boring and sad. Seeing you out and about is some dull pain I'm after. You can keep me at an arm's length under a lovely grey canopy of clouds. I'll leave a trail of thin seeds and sighs.

Bye,

Joan

Sideways

Dear John,

Its only been a month, but I am convinced that you are the worst thing to have possibly happened to me, but I like your beard, and I think you’re pretty cool. Still, there is no excuse for you. Yes, I am seeing a man or two and I am not condoning it, but at least they are aware of my slight issue with “relationships.” You. You are dating someone I believe is talented, beautiful, and gracious. I think you should be with her, and I think you’ll one day think so too.

Fill you up

Other side of the ocean

Dear John,

You have been mine since last year. You are wild and passionate. Yet, your passion does not span the ocean that divides us. You do not possess the ability to love from a distance. I keep waiting for your moment of clarity: The moment when you outwardly declare, “I’m in love with this woman, and I will not let her slip away no matter the circumstances!” Albeit, we both know this will never occur and it’s truly a shame. You say you will be waiting for me, but will you still love me in December?

Rejection

Dear Johns,

Why can't you just love me back?

princess warrior

dear john,

i didn't want to break up with you and i thought i made that very clear. i wasn't even considering it until you stopped responding to my messages, which contained threats. when someone is very far away, when someone is surrounded by mountains and rivers, when someone has big hills of learning around them, when someone is you and i want to hear and feel you, well, sometimes i go a mite crazy.
i considered how the word neglect would feel in my mouth. i saw how deeply i was being neglected and i let you in on that thought by sharply pointing out how nothing is ever enough - not ever. it really isn't. i will always believe that you'll leave. i will always assume that you have ulterior motives. i will always guess about the other girls you're interested in and these ideas will displease me and maybe ruin any fun for awhile. i thought you knew it was your job to convince me otherwise or at least keep me occupied enough, keep all my tiny, dark demons at bay. instead, you left me. you gave me all the room and space to freak out. you hardly responded when i said, "i can't believe you're doing this to us." for that, i feel very hurt by you. no matter how many words you have to share on your blistering brain, i do not understand that kind of backing-off after so many shared secrets and moments and aches and dreams. you would leave me for days to just wonder what i'd done.
so, it happened, like falling into a pit. i plopped a heavy suggestion into your lap and you didn't seem to disagree, not as much as i needed you to. you said, "ok." you said, "i don't want you to suffer," and accepted the new situation like a season change, like the death of a pet. you cried and it was part of the weird life that has befallen you, but i didn't want that. i wanted you to say, "no way, stranger." i wanted you to say, "how could you? i won't allow this." i wanted you to express to me that we had far too many plans, that we were much too much in love, that you would do anything. i know this makes me underhanded; i know this is all slightly off.
then, you called me war-like but i was actually a zombie. i didn't leave my bed all day. i didn't brush my teeth. it was halloween and i didn't go anywhere but deep into my sheets to sob and have headaches and whimpering. i didn't want to break up, you see. i missed it somehow because in all actuality, my feelings for you were as strong as ever and even more raw. there we were holding hands in the woods. there we were smoking on a balcony. there we were eating granola bars in the car, talking about things we didn't really understand. there we were in bed and you were all around me. there we were crying at the train station. there we were on the sidewalk when i apologized for hanging on you and you said you really didn't mind and i felt some flowers bloom inside me. maybe i apologized again later, just to hear you repeat yourself.
now we've decided to "try," because it's "better." i do believe it's better to try. we talk and we communicate and you're trying very hard to be regular and i want to thank you but it wouldn't be like flowers blooming, so i don't. it's very sad that i ruined everything, that i made our condition a sham. it's very sad that i'm so prone to losing touch with my rational mind and lashing out and it's very sad that you're so gentle with me and easy to lose among mean and mixed messages.

i didn't want to break up. i love you more than ever,
me

Breakup

Dear John,

I probably didn't want you anyway.

Coward

Dear John,

I fear that you love me too much.

xx,
Jane

Misnomer

Dear John,

You were supposed to be my knight in shining armor, the cherry on top of my everything, the wind beneath my wings.

You so failed.

P.S. I hate your band.

I'm on fire

Hey little girl is your daddy home
Did he go away and leave you all alone
I got a bad desire
I'm on fire

Tell me now baby is he good to you
Can he do to you the things that I do
I can take you higher
I'm on fire

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife baby
Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley
Through the middle of my soul

At night I wake up with the sheets soaking wet
And a freight train running through the
Middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
I'm on fire

Desire

dear joaaan,

i only just met you but i know that i want to do bad bad good things to you.

i want to eat up every inch of you.

slowly.

methodically.

with my eyes closed and senses open.

to taste.

touch and feel.

your scent.

to hear every move, every twist and turn.

i will do

i will be anything you want.

Arizona

Dear John,

I want to be your light. I want to be your sky.