Ex-Lover Reaching Out

Hi R, it was such a relief to get your email, even just an acknowledgement of my message. i’ve been wanting to make contact ever since that time you came to australia, but never had a reason. now when i thought i’m going to be in london i at last had an excuse, except now T has changed his mind so i might not be seeing you after all.

But now that we’re in contact, would it be too awful for you if we exchange emails occasionally, don’t worry, you don’t have to write much, i’ll do that, it’s just that i have to have someone to talk to, it was so lovely seeing you in australia, i immediately felt what i’ve always felt, here’s my soul-mate, i thought i could feel you feeling the same, but i could have been kidding myself, out of desperation.

Desperate is what i am, not the desperation of a crisis, more the slow-burning desperation of being in hopeless straits without the prospect of escape. as i’m sure you could see, my husband T’s not the brightest person ever to walk this planet, i could live with that though, except that he can’t, so he’s petty and shriveled and possessive. he shows this affable sociable public face, nobody seems to see through it, i’m sure everyone thinks i’m lucky having him as a husband.

Not that he’s violent or cruel, just that in every important way he’s just a big vacuum, i’ve learned to ignore him because it takes less time, he hardly notices the difference. that’s convenient, but it leaves a hole in my live, one that i can’t fill because his empty presence takes out the available time and space. i don’t care about having a stupid husband, he could be thick as pigshit or sharp as razors, who cares, what gnaws at my soul is the vacuum.

And what i’m specially desperate for, R, i’m not sure if i’ll leave this paragraph in, or delete it before i send it, or maybe i shouldn’t send this email at all, anyway, what i specially need, is sex. i want skin and touch and holding and smells and fluids and smiling and secrets, R. i want what we had. i want a lover who wants me. i want hours of unhurried confident intimacy. i want to have sex and feel stronger not weaker.

Okay, if this was a letter on paper instead of an email you’d see the stains of teardrops, i’m just going to send it anyway, forgive me if i’m bleeding all over you, R, you don’t have to reply, but if you do, that would be great, i promise i won’t mess up your life.

Missing you, you can’t imagine how much, J xx