I miss you. I don’t want to miss you, but I do. You engaged my mind long before you engaged my body. With you, I was a smart, pretty girl. I don’t often feel like I’m all three, and I miss that.
You were so nice. So gentle and well-spoken while you tore my mind to shreds. And you showed me what it felt like to be f****d like a woman. It was oddly delicious.
It’s sad that someone could make my body feel so good and make my heart feel so bad. I still consider coming back sometimes. Plus … you taught me a few tricks that I still use by myself, so … thanks … I guess.
You’re so different from what I normally go for. From what I thought you were. I guess we’ve both grown, and we would have grown apart. I’m grateful for one thing though. You made me feel loved. You abandoned me, but while you were with me, you made me feel loved, and I’ll always adore you for that.
You’re very good with your tongue. I guess that’s why you became a lawyer. Sadly, those skills didn’t do a lot for me, because I wasn’t what you were looking for. Same name, different girl. Oh well.
I’ve never told you how pretty you are. So young. And so very pretty.
Dear Grandfather Man
I really am sorry. You said all the right things … but I could never be with someone who my daughter thinks is old.
You ruined me for other men. I’ll probably never love with the innocence and trust I had when I first met you. You hardened me. And now they all think I’m way too butch. Oh well. At least I didn’t get your name tattooed. Phew!
You were the exception that proved the rule. I swore I’d never be with someone like you. And now I know why, because I’ve lived it, and it was so much worse than I imagined. Three years later, it still hurts. I’m sure it hurts her more than it hurts me.
Wow. Just … wow. I’m looking at the mother of your child, and I feel both sadness and relief. Sadness, because I finally understand why it was her and not me. Relief because the way you are now, I no longer want to be her. You look happy though. I’m glad that you’re happy. You brought me such joy, and you deserve to be happy.
You haven’t lost it. You’ve lost a lot of hair, but you haven’t lost it. You’re still that gorgeous little boy with that sly, assessing look that makes me blush.
One thought on “*Dear Matthew*”
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