Seanpcola
Moderator
To all GCGF members:
I'm writing a letter of reconciliation to my ex-wife, trying to get back together but I wanted to see what everybody thought of it before I sent it out...
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 always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride has 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. It's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my heart says; "There's no one like 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."
2 weeks ago , I met this girl at a bar 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. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream right?
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 so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderatley 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 tossed her about a half pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" Was it her flawless technique or her slutty shameless hunger, or something else? Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did I feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. I 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. Everything I do 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 some lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant until later, but thats not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know were 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 because 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 dropped by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good "head" on her shoulders (if you know what I mean) 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 to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we're doing jello shots in the hot tub and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think about how much she looks like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal 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 grievences and and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
Otherwise, can you tell me were the fucking remote is?
Love, Greg
I'm writing a letter of reconciliation to my ex-wife, trying to get back together but I wanted to see what everybody thought of it before I sent it out...
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 always you who would come crawling back to me. I guess my pride needed that. But now I see that my pride has 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. It's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt.
This is what my heart says; "There's no one like 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."
2 weeks ago , I met this girl at a bar 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. Tits like you wouldn't believe and an ass that just wouldn't quit. Every man's dream right?
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 so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderatley 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 tossed her about a half pint of throat yogurt, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" Was it her flawless technique or her slutty shameless hunger, or something else? Some nagging feeling of loss. Why did I feel so incomplete? And then it hit me. I 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. Everything I do 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 some lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant until later, but thats not the real story. Anyway, we had a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know were 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 because 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 dropped by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Vicki's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good "head" on her shoulders (if you know what I mean) 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 to get back together. Connie, she really is.
So we're doing jello shots in the hot tub and talking about happier times. Here's this teenage girl with the same DNA as you and all I can do is think about how much she looks like you when you were 18. And that just about makes me cry. And then it turns out Vicky's really into the whole anal 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 grievences and and start fresh? I think we can. If you feel the same please, please, please let me know.
Otherwise, can you tell me were the fucking remote is?
Love, Greg
opcorn:
