Debra,
Now I, who swore never to meddle with thy decision, must needs put pen to paper to explain more truly what I said not, until all was perhaps lost.
I am, have been, a fool. I am unworthy, it seems, save to teach a woman what it is she should now cherish, and that is, believe me, a powerful sad road to tread.
I would not lose thee. I love thee truly, as thou mayest not truly believe, but, as thou, I have also stood at thy side these four years not only you at mine.
I am, I own, guilty of man’s basest failings – I took thy love somewhat for granted, and always the one who proceeds thus knows not what he has until the thing he loved leaves him.
I swear I harbour in my heart no thought to make a fool of thee, no bas disrespect or mockery, only my appetites which have ever been my downfall led me on and turned thy face from me.
Consider this: Is not ty (and my) life too full of misery and sorrow, strewn with pitfalls already? Canst thou truly afford to cast aside a true friend (for this I was) and an ardent lover (this also). Canst, thou bear to live without me? For I cannot imagine life without thee.
I love thy smile; thy dusky skin is joy to me. I love the touch of thy, long delicate fingers upon my manhood that make it spit hot and full into thy face. I cannot describe the ecstasy thou bringest with thy ingenious lips, thy soft red mouth, for when it encloseth me I feel I burst with feeling words describe it not.
I love thee, Debra, and mark this: I will always love thee, and thou should judge me not, nor leave me, for we make each other complete. Do not this rash thing, I implore thee.
You are my beauty, my conversation, my orgasm, my partner. Be this and make me smile again.
Your,
Lem XXX
Hi, Deb,
Hope all is well with you. You know what a grouchy old git I am, but I am fair more crudité in writing, and so this letter (on yellow, of course).
As for the conversation the other night, I’d like to, just one last time, try to patch us up: anything would be better than parting like that, yes?
Debra, I really do love you, you know, no matter what you think I’m thinking. I always did from the Rainbow on, and I thought you knew that. I thought you loved me, and I loved you, and we both were aware of it, and it would be ok.
Pressing me, like this isn’t fair, my love. It really isn’t. “I’m leaving + never want to see you again” and “Well, marry me then” – “Ha”!!
I mean to say, I didn’t even consider marriage because I was brought up by 2 women – no men – until I was 10, when Ma remarried. The first one was a vicar in the Church of England, and with all the Holy Vows that one takes at a wedding, still, he left us when I was 3 months old! So she got jobs as a librarian, and a TB nurse and even behind a bar in a Hotel for a while – but she brought
me up to honor honorable things and know wrong from right, and to tell the truth and to not die ashamed of anything I do.
I am an honorable man, Debra – I don’t know who’s been sitting and agreeing with you when you have a small grief, but mostly those people either
- Male sympathizer. – Want you themselves so are not exactly going to give me any build-ups are they?
- Female sympathizer. The ones who advise (even oblige) you to give me as hard a time as possible because I’m a man, or a wo?? Or a base seducer. They have very mundane lives usually and hate to see anyone having a slightly exotic one – and you are certainly exotic.
Don’t let these people (if that is indeed what the case it) sway you away from that I believe is the closest thing to the real thing either of us has ever had.
It almost was the real thing, Debra, and it still could be – but you must be a friend of mine – not my antagonist. Things started to change a while ago, and I know it was more than what you saw in my apartment that made you
Leave me – God, I can’t believe you’ve left me. I swear I never thought you would – not is a chauvinist, proprietary way – I just thought you loved me and you wouldn’t break up with me, because I wouldn’t break up with you. And I never would’ve, I swear.
I got the camera + films sent out, you know because (as you also won’t believe) it gets lonely on the bus.
Watching us together – we are having so much fun – apart from you sucking me, we are laughing and cracking up and all the pleasant conversations we use to have about books and movies and we’d interact and be friends!!
So why did an outsider fuck it up? I am sure, in my heart that someone put the knife in my back with you. It has been like that all my life – not self-pity – just a fact – someone was always telling people what a bastard I was – and it fucking hurts when people say those things, because that is the furthest from my mind.
Please come out + visit on the road or when I get back home, but the sooner the better, really, Four Years deserve more of a chance than one
Evening of arguing?
My Mum hated my original father for leaving us, and she disliked my stepfather for various reasons, so marriage didn’t exactly get a good press at home, so I just don’t usually consider it an option – can you understand? Why not convince me it’s a good idea, instead of leaving me it I don’t say “Yes”
Call me on Hobbsy’s mobile phone, or I’ll try to call you. I want to see you Deb, I miss you. I miss talking dirty on the phone – I miss your smile, your fantastic eyes, your long beautiful legs, your sense of the absurd, your tongue and your lips and the roof or your mouth – God help me, I miss your giggle, even.
Don’t lose me Deb, you’ll not find a man who loves you better in a year of Sunday’s. If someone else has got into my seat, then take a good look and then remember the best of our times and compare them.
Don’t do this Debra – ‘cos I don’t think either of us wants to just split up, ok?
Call me – Love + rockets.
Lem XXXXX
P.S. I’ve never tried writing dirty, but if we could reach an agreement, perhaps that might be fun?
I do love you. You should believe me. I would not lie about that. XX