Dear John, until then I will just love you secretly.

Leaching

2011-02-01T03:36:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Just because you're (semi) famous and you've got a massive willy, doesn't mean I'm going to fuck you in the toilet. I bet you knew this was a sex club all along, you sleazy little snake.

Grenada

2011-01-17T01:55:00.000-08:00

Jane,

We wanted to meet last night
We picked Grenada
Got arrested for kissing in public
Shared a jail cell
We didn't care because we were together
Broke out of prison with a file that I smuggled while you were lookout
Ending up laying in a square hammock
You were beautiful

-John

Ex-patriated

2011-01-07T07:27:00.000-08:00

Dear South Africa,

Thanks for exporting John beyond your national boundaries. He makes my heart skip too many beats, and I fear it might result in my untimely death. If this happens, be a dear and tell my mother it was Ireland's fault.

Atrophied

2011-01-07T04:21:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I don't know if I was being kind or cruel by letting you down so easily, although I'm sure that you would by no means describe my decision as one made with kindness. I say kind because I believe I successfully led you to accept that I thoughtd it was our relationship that was flawed, not either of us, and cruel because, well, our relationship ultimately was unsustainable as a result of your stunted emotional maturity. And by not being completely blunt, I may be allowing you to hold on to the feelings I know you still have for me, instead of seeing me as a cold, heartless bitch.

Oh, and things in the bedroom weren't very exciting, either. And they only happened in the bedroom, which is also a problem. But I digress.

We all use each other, but I definitely used you. For stability, affection, to feel lovable. In hindsight, I realize it's been a long, long time since I was very interested in you. I began to feel like I was dying inside, yet tried to label it as the effects of adulthood and maturity. While I realize that those are the hallmarks of many a person's development, I don't want them for myself.

I don't want a superficial life, and that's what I was destined to have with you, the man who was unable to carry a conversation during dinner.

I want passion, and change, and fits of laughter that leave you breathless. I want more.

And somehow, surprisingly, unexpectedly, I found a man who wants more, too. I don't know if it's going to last, and frankly, I couldn't care less right now. It just feels pretty awesome to be this comfortable with this person who drives me as crazy as I make him.

I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm not sorry I left you. I hope you fall in love again soon.

Detachedly,

Jane

Different kind of love

2011-01-07T04:16:00.000-08:00

dear john,

i wanted to write this letter to you on new year's eve, but as it came out you made a truce with me. i was not expecting this to happen, so i decided to write this letter as a symbol of me ending everything with you. unfortunately (or fortunately) it all came out quite well. but i still have a lot of sorrow in me because of you, so i want to express it now.

i am aware of the fact that you were strongly in love with me once. and i also know that i broke your heart. even though i gave you a chance it didn't work out. but i'm sure that you know that i really loved you. i loved you as a friend, as a person. i'm sorry that i wasn't able to find the love you needed from me in my heart, but there was no way i could have.

i'm only sorry about the way that you handled the situation later. being sad and sick at heart like you claimed you were does not allow you to treat me this way. treat me like a whore, use my devotion to you just to get me to bed. or later on use my drunkenness to do the same. is that what a man in love does? if yes then i want no more men, if no - what were you thinking? and everything later, your harsh words, your gossip about me and also making your new friends against me? what was that?! i can't believe you're the same person which i've known.

in the beginning i cried probably every night, also at daytime. i cried when i saw your photos, i cried when i heard songs which somehow related to all of this, i cried when i saw you, i cried when i heard about you. you were my first best best best best male friend. i regret a lot of things, but i will never regret the friendship that we had, even though it ended up with me being emotionally dead.

i do love you, i always will. but i will never try to speak about this to you. i will try to stay away as far as i can, given the acquaintance between me and your friends.

and i am truly sorry, for all the bad i might have done to you.
goodbye, soulmate

Lost in Translation

2011-01-07T04:11:00.000-08:00

John Darling,

I read a book today called Bad Marie. It reminded me of you. I wish I could read it to you, word for word, and watch your reaction. I wonder what connections you'd make, and if they would be the same as mine. The thing is that they probably wouldn't be. You wouldn't understand what I was saying as usual, even though the words aren't even exactly mine. It's like you don't even understand pure English. But that's what we are and forever will be-lost in translation.

All/Nothing

2010-12-18T13:58:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I wish I knew better how to follow my heart rather than my head. I don't want to be with anyone else, but I'm scared it's just too much too quickly. You're too amazing, and I'm scared that I'll screw it all up.

Grow

2010-12-15T16:45:00.000-08:00

Come to me, my darling. I am not afraid.

Please forgive my often solitary ways.

Its not that I don't want to

Its just that then, I'll never be the same

So come to me my darling.

And help me put aside my age

I can feel it falling

Through my hands

But I am not afraid.

Romeu e Julieta

2010-12-10T10:24:00.000-08:00

Lay,

Se Romeu e Julieta fossem reais, estariam lá no céu, torcendo pelo amor da gente. Espero ter causado uma boa impressão à sua mãe, e que ela tenha gostado de mim. Você já sabe que EU TE AMO com todas as minhas forças, e não vou deixar isso morrer. E Matheus, aquele maldito Tebaldo/Páris, Chato, Pedra no meu sapato, eu prometo que nunca vou te deixar ter motivos pra me deixar e ficar com ele. Nem você quer isso. eu sei que você também gosta de mim. Beijo na Boca. Desse carinha que agora descobriu que o coração não se engana e Que
ama a Lay. John.
_I ♥ I_

Those Special Two Words

2010-12-07T19:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Johnny Don Juany,

What a massive waste of time you were. The three words that I thought I could say to you have now been reduced to two:
fuck you!

Missed Connections

2010-12-02T08:22:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Will you please call me? I do hope you have my number. As, I was a dick and accidentally deleted your number. And, I can't find you on because we didn't even exchange last names. I want to see you again.
And, to everyone else, if you know him please tell him to call the small asian girl he met at Amika.

Love,
Jane

Relationship Advice

2010-11-22T13:59:00.000-08:00

My Dear Brother from another Mother, First n Foremost

What can I say but ...O baby...o baby...O BABY

Ah, the heart. That little fuck pump that leads us astray. It has reasons of which reason knows nothing of. It clouds our minds, smokes up our vision...which is all eventually cleared up by it's mortal enemy: The Brain. The heart is but the horse, the brain is it's reins. Beware if the two unite, it paints a picture of reality. But that is rarely seen, especially in rideless horses like ourselves who fancy the pretty mares in the pen but just swish our tails, swatting away the flies. While some small time PONY takes them away with false promises of a big dick and starry skies leaving us STALLIONS to bite the dust and curse our luck while Fat King KKG (Kismat Ka Gandu) slaps his thigh laughing. Humph! Sometimes I think that picture of reality is painted with horse shit.

But YOU, my Gujrati stallion, should know that the mare you thought was flirtatiously swishing her tail at you was actually just taking a dump. There's a reason you didn't go up to her like the ponies do...you could smell the shit. If there wasn't any shit, you'd have smelt some fragrance and would have gone galloping to her even without being whipped. Such stuff is automatic...the horse doesn't need a rider to show or prod or whip him into doing something he doesn't do on his own. If he's pushed and anxious enough on his own, he'll go where he has to go by himself. Even she can't entice him into something worthwhile if his heart isn't in it.

They say, wheresoever you go, go with all your heart. But know that it'll only go where you'll take it. If you don't go a certain way, if you choose a different path, it was because it relieved you...it's subconscious, instinct, the right thing. Even if she was a unicorn :D

From

You know Who

Partially unrequited forever

2010-11-14T01:58:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

2.5 years of partially unrequited love. This relationship we have - these complications, the moments of beauty, the hurt and frustration, the push and pull, the inside jokes, the comfortable silence, the nervous butterflies, the long philosophical conversations, the anguish of my heart, the complex nature of your thoughts, the laughter, the longing and missing - it's all been worth it. Every single moment.

And even as I have relationships with others... even as I have my heart broken from other men and break other men's hearts, I will spend the rest of my life loving you - in some shape or form.

Plan B

2010-11-14T01:50:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I still read your horoscope every morning, along with mine. I still check your Facebook, looking to find what you've been up to. I watch you go on and offline, hoping you'll talk to me… sometimes you do. Sometimes I'm left wondering who you're talking to instead.

I'm aware of all the girls you've been with since you and I were together, I've been around them a few times when we've hung out. I'll introduce myself politely and even at times engage in conversations with them because I know to be mature and I admit to being well-raised. It baffles me though what you see in them, they come out as being ignorant to everything but themselves. They are socially awkward, oblivious and selfish in ways I can't even depict. They all look exactly the same, completely different in every way from me. I'm left wondering what made you pursue me in the first place, I definitely wouldn't consider myself your type after meeting these bobble heads you date. I'm almost embarrassed to be amongst these class-less Jane's.

We still talk, we're friends, we go out once in a while. I insist my feelings for you have changed, I tell myself that everyday. Deep down though it frustrates me, being around you but not with you. Seeing you smiling in pictures I'm not in… watching you move on when I'm still just as hung up on you as ever.

The thing is, John, I have this hope, that one day things will change… and you'll wake up and realize you want me back. What gives me this hope though, is the way we are now. You've insisted on this friendship, and it bewilders me. I've stopped talking to you before, we've had numerous arguments where I tell you I'm not ready to be friends… time goes by and you'll message me, or text me, or instant message me out of the blue. You'll say something completely random, that has nothing to do with us. You know exactly how to get a reply from me. How to make me feel pathetic if I don't respond.

You don't want to be with me, yet you keep me around. Like a plan B, a safety net… an assurance that you'll always have someone if ever in need. I'm that someone you feel you can someday love again, that someone you know you should someday love again because we're both aware I was good to you, but your feelings are gone and neither I nor you can make them come back.

Maybe the timing is just wrong, or maybe you want to be sure there's nothing else out there better or greater before ever considering me again. Gosh, I feel like a tool saying this. I'm a professional at making you seem like the greatest douche bag of all. It's not hard… what you're doing, even though you're not aware, is indeed very unfair. It's in your nature though, and I've seen a better side of you, the one i know is around when you're truly involved with someone you care about. That's the side of you I crave… it's what lingers.

It was obvious my mistake was being too good. I was always there, I never played games, I gave you everything and more… your friends even enjoyed my company, do till this day, actually. Your family approved, even your siblings who had never enjoyed prior Jane's admitted to liking me. Even once we were done, and in bad terms, I've been in their company. You still talk about me with them, with your family. You tell me how fond of me they are. It's quite fucked up to be frank this little relationship we have going on.

Anyways, John...

I want you to know, that to the contrary of what you may think, I will move on one day. I'll find another John, one that will appreciate all my qualities and realize I'm not just a toy that can be played with whenever he feels like it or craves attention. I want you to know that you will want me back when this happens, and that you wont be able to have me back. I look forward to the day when you see me smiling on my pictures, and wish you were by my side. The day when you're the one wondering what I've been up to, looking for clues on my Facebook. I assure you, I'm more certain than ever that it will happen, and so I dedicate "Ain't It Funny (the remix) by J.Lo," to you on that day. Haha, enjoy it.

Xo,
Jane

Jealousy

2010-11-07T12:56:00.000-08:00

Dear Jane,

Dude we're certainly not dating but your behavior is not in anyway how I would treat a friend (wasn't he also your flatmate's date?) whether he was or not, it was weak and it was a poor show. As much as I hate to admit it it, it was also hurtful and disappointing. There's a difference between this liberated openness and being cool and being an utter cunt. An untrustworthy one at that.

Shortcomings

2010-11-06T10:52:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

You have a tiny, terrible dick.

Oops, BYE!

Laws of Me

2010-11-06T10:49:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

You are my everything and my nothing simultaneously. By creating this seemingly virtual existence we partake in outside the safety of our separate worlds, I've become more satisfied than ever before and more agitated than possibly imagined. I look back on the way your body facilitates mine, the ridiculous pull you have on my desires, and I forget the frustration of not having you any time I want.

Since our first teenage-esque makeout session on the city street laced with winter, you've allowed me to piece together your being within my own mind without restraint. You are completely unaware of the individual I perceive you to be, want... need you to be. Selflessness presents itself in such curious ways.

Before you, I held the world to my greedily lofty expectations. My ridiculous nuances and desires of the way things should be according to the Laws of Me. During you, I've learned the only standards I can hold anyone to are their own. Within the four walls surrounding the World of Us, you've taught me tolerance by being loud mouthed and opinionated as I see you're shielding the history you so desperately try to shed. I've fully digested the puzzle pieces you've shared in confidence and have them sewn within the sanctity of my soul. You are safe, love.

I've always viewed striving to satisfy one's own desires regardless of consequence as selfish; because of you I now know that act is merely survival.

Hold me while you need me and feed my internal longings. For a moment or forever, pieces of us will float within our parallel universe and words unspoken will translate within. At least I'll know you know.

Me vs. You (and myself)

2010-10-29T09:20:00.001-07:00

Dear Johns,

Over the years, I have left a remarkable trail of tears in my wake. It's not like I did that, this, intentionally. I never meant to hurt you, and at times, to allow you to hurt me. The truth is-I'm a sucker for love, and it seems to happen to me repeatedly. My excuse: I embark in all of these relationships because I learn a little bit from every individual that I involve myself with. Although it didn't start out that way. But the truth is: the only thing that I've gotten out of these...things, these creations of my mind, little fantasies really, is self-destruction and more anxiety. I tricked myself into thinking that all of these experiences would each enlighten me and take me to a new level of self-experience so I wouldn't feel to horrible about my track record of wrecking and ruining. Instead, I feel blase and worn-out. I really did try to work things out with every single one of you. I tried to make something of what we had, but I guess it just wasn't ever enough. I'm so extremely tired of this. All I ever wanted was that one person that could light up my life. I thought that I would just know who that person was when I was with them but I was wrong. Thank you modern media for corrupting my little girl years with promises of happy endings.

Take That

2010-10-19T13:17:00.000-07:00

dear john and jane

I hope you're very happy together. Facebook confirms you two have got what I once set out to get, and now I've lost not only the first romantic interest since my heart broke from another but one of my best friends who I looked on like a sister. You cut me out your lives, but just remember I introduced you two....... something I'll regret forever.

P.S. I fucked him first

Blackgang Chine

2010-10-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I hate Facebook and the fact that I cannot delete your sister as my friend because she's so sweet and that'd be rude of me. Plus, she's pregnant, and you can't delete a pregnant lady!

I hate that I have to see your new girlfriend post on your sister's page about hanging out with your family. Oh great, she flew in from LA too. Good for you. You're taking her to all our old spots. Hope you have the time of your life. Not.

I hate that your new girlfriend is my doppleganger. We look exactly alike, people have said it for years.... before you knew either of us actually. Only she's in a band and probably cooler.

Barf, barf, barf.

Love of My Life

2010-10-03T02:41:00.000-07:00

Dear The Love of my Life,

By all accounts, you're the love of my life. Leaving you three years ago was the most difficult and best decision in my life.

You were an absolute addiction. Like a drug, if I even got one whiff of your presence whether seeing you flash of your presence online, a passing email, it's like I suffer a relapse and I'm spending days struggling.

I miss when you use to say "Hey baby", in your husky sexy voice that I knew your complete attention was on me. I miss those kisses you use to give me on my neck that would send shutters all over my body. There was a time where it just didn't feel right unless I was sleeping next to you in your bed.

I miss the moments when it felt like we were in a movie. Once I was in my raggidy PJ's, you were typing away on the computer. And a song came on the radio and we were in your messy room. And for one slow song, you picked me up and slow danced with me for the entire song. Just out of nowhere.

You just couldn't get enough of my body. Sometimes, you couldn't wait to get my clothes off just so you could lick my cunt. It was such a privilege to be your partner.

And you're hot. You had the type of body that was shapely and would make girls wet in their pants. I hope you realise that.

Movie moment #2. I had made a decision to move to a new country for my career. You had arranged to leave with me at the airport. We were late, rushing to catch the plane before it would separate us, and you picked me up and kissed me in the most passionate kiss that people in the room couldn't help but stop and stare. There were no words, just a hush that came through the airport waiting room as people saw two lovers say goodbye.

What you may be struggling to understand, was that despite being madly and deeply in love with you, there was a huge unhappiness over my heart. Despite being my knight in shining armour, you literally were a knight in shining armour. You were trying to save me, and I didn't need saving. You looked for ways to save me, and in some sense, you relished in finding ways I needed saving.

I have dreams that I want to accomplish. I tried to take you with me. But you couldn't because either you thought I couldn't do it, or you weren't organised. You didn't understand that I'm a political person, and I wanted to run my life based on those politics. You in turn didn't understand the politics and at best only copied me because you knew it would make me happy. I had wanted to make life as an adventure, but you didn't even understand the adventure itself.

Because you were so busy saving me, you didn't realise that you were the one who needed saving. You became really insecure about your frailties. I would offer help but you didn't want to share that part of yourself. You were holding the knight in shinining armour paradigm so tightly, you didn't realise the metal was what was causing you to sink.

My last complaint, now that it's been three years of getting over you. Three years of learning that I don't need a knight. You keep coming back in between your new damsels in distress. And the relapses come back despite the new foundations that I have built from your absence.

I am now investing my energies elsewhere. If I keep telling myself I will find a new Love of my Life, hopefully one day I will believe it.

Leave me alone, old Love of my Life. I wish you were cruel. The best thing you can do for me now is to ignore me. I don't want to see you again until I'm an old woman.

Life lesson 34,722: How to be happy for someone else

2010-09-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I am so, so incredibly happy for you.

Well, no, I guess I'm not. I'm not unhappy for you, but I don't really feel happy, either. But I think if I keep saying that I am, either I'll start feeling it, or the repetition will trick my mind into thinking I really feel it. Either of which is suitable.

We were babies who fell in love years ago. Usually, I would say young love is infatuation saturated by the satisfaction of finally fulfilled sexual daydreams, but for us, it was real. Really real. So real, in fact, that I still love you.

I would never, ever tell anyone this. But if you were to ask me to, I would quit my job, boyfriend, and life to move across the continent (across the world, if necessary) and marry you in a day. That's how much I still love you. Or how disillusioned I am with adult life that I want that badly to go back to the simplistically difficult life that was my youth.

But you would never ask me to. So, I will continue to work at my literal and figurative garden with my meat-and-potatoes-love, praying that he never learns to like cherry tomatoes so I can continue to have them all to myself.

And I will continue to hope that you do and don't invite me to your wedding, and that I will and won't meet your fiancee, and that you are and aren't happy for the rest of your life.

My life as a hypocrite suites me quite well.

I am so, so incredibly happy for you. May you have found everything you ever wanted.

I love you, too,
jane

Sweet Leaf

2010-09-23T14:33:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

You know right?

I am transcendentally in love with you.

fuck this

2010-09-22T07:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

I don't know what we are. You confuse me, you don't bat an eye as I make allusions to us being Married but then you tell me what a wonderful a 'friend' you are to me.

You talk to me all hours of the night because you want to, and because I want to too. But I don't know how we're connected, or if we really are.

Fuck this.

We're Back

2010-09-21T12:36:00.000-07:00

after a brief hiatus dear john has been resuscitated and we are back to accepting your lovely confessions and spitting them out...we missed you too.

Monon St

2010-09-05T15:27:00.001-07:00

Dear Jane,

That sea is a temporary one, as much as I am also glittered by its crooning. You are my blanket.

Dream of the Honey

2010-09-03T16:30:00.001-07:00

Dear John,

Home is who you are with, not where you keep your things. I'm waiting for you to come home. To make our own little world, just you and me.

Kuku

2010-09-01T15:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

I am hoping you see this before you leave your apartment and start on your going abouts.
I have a favor to ask...if you don't mind:
please put some headphones on and play this song?
Please follow these prompts as you do this:

close your eyes. take 3 deep breaths.
then imagine that I'm kissing you, gently-
your cheeks, lips, eyelids, neck...
Please don't open your eyes until this song is over.

I am trying to send you a feeling from across the world.
I hope it was successful, please take it with you.

- John

Trop pop

2010-08-26T17:18:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

Some of my favorite songs are starting to remind me of you.

Burned Cigarette, Nothing More

2010-08-17T12:46:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

Tonight we met. While we were smoking and reminiscing the old and the new, you told me about other women andI felt small and stupid and ordinary... I have come to realise that I mean nothing to you, I am just a mere fading shadow in your life...

Oslo, Bamako

2010-08-12T05:49:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

A morning without you is a morning in mourning.

Mystified

2010-08-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

I like you.

Oh...
Pretty baby
This feeling I just can't hide
You got me mystified

Oh...
Pretty darling
This feeling is deep inside
You got me mystified

The light that shines around you
It blinds my eyes
There's a magic surrounds you
Tell me where your secret lies

Your song

2010-08-09T13:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

In my head it's like 2 radio stations playing in unison.

I can't seem to get one to come in.

Fashionista photographs, the northern lights don't need a flash.

It's a picture worth some travel.

Over water. Over land.

Find the breeze to push the sails to the sand.

Good Luck

2010-08-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

I think we know the same John. Your description of his Cuban curls, but he’s not Cuban, although he probably told you he was, his searing, searching glances, the kind that make you feel naked and burnt, the sushi. He picked up the “Would you rather…” question habit from me. I can see why you would say that you thought sex meant nothing to him, but in reality, for him, it’s everything. And he will call you and act as though nothing has changed.

However, my John would never have a dog. My John would lie about his age, but I can’t see him choosing one three years older than he really is—the eternal adolescent.

It was a relief to see the clues that our Johns couldn’t be the same person, but depressing to know there is more than one of the same out there. I’m sorry for both us, and for all the other Janes that cry for them.

Good luck,
-jane

Lone Tree

2010-08-03T02:55:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

When we started talking I began to feel like I wasn't a lone tree in an empty field anymore. I always sensed that I would love your mind from looking at your paintings, and behind that sense I believed your heart as well.

And then I did. Quickly. The way champagne hits, you engulfed my thoughts, ate up my mind, consumed my thought process.

I booked a flight to see you. $500.00 and 20,000 American Express points. I remember after, near the end of that weekend where we fit so puzzle piece, no tension, just one back and forth, like breathing together. I was sitting there on your balcony with your dirty white dog on my lap while you slept after we had sex. Looking at all of the people walking below, off to someplace. I sat there crying, the silent kind, because I did not want you to see me cry when you dropped me at the airport.

The night before you took me out for sushi on a date and I met all of the important people in your life. We wandered by the ocean. You went off on your own and ran into the water with your clothes on. I was wearing a dress I could not ruin. I sat there watching you, 200 meters in the distance, my feet feeling the tide. I was a lone tree. You were a lone tree. I knew then we would never work. And I also knew then that I really loved you.

When my silent cry stopped, I opened the glass door to return to the bedroom. For a brief moment in time I crawled next to you and wanted you to wake up on your own and realize I was leaving. I sat there with my mind, willing you to wake up, wake up. Just wake up. But I had to wake you up instead. We had ten minutes. Those hollow minutes where you just want to get it over with and keep it all at once. Last ten minutes of an elementary school day. I can't finish this math problem in time. Just let me get on the bus and ride next to strangers.

I remember the way those bus rides smell with the dirty and the seats that are cut and taped and the noise of kids singing to some Ace of Base song they all know by heart. I felt lone tree then too. And for the weekend we spent together, I did not feel lone tree. Well, except for that ocean part. But we were lone trees together at least.

On the ride to the airport you asked me "Would you rather..." questions. You were filling my silence. But when you kissed me goodbye and your tongue dipped into the back of my mouth and I embraced you with my right hand behind your sweaty neck and fingers twisted in your black Cuban curls, I knew it would not ever be like that weekend again. Goodbye. A goodbye and I could not even say it.

I got on to the plane and sat there crying while listening to Bon Iver and feeling like I was coming down from the worst cocaine withdrawal I have had in my life. You were an emotional cocaine trip to me. You had texted me while I was walking through the airport. I could not write you.

You were number 6. The 6th man I made love to. Even though it didn't mean anything to you. Even though you hooked up with your ex two weeks later and told me you were going to. Even though I told you it hurt me.

Slowly we stopped texting and talking non-stop. We were going to see each other soon though. 22 days later and you squeezed me in for three hours in New York. Enough time for a drink, an in bar makeout. Some flirting. I did not recognize you the same way. I felt like I had placed plexy glass between my skin and yours. My emotion was in a Ziploc.

You massaged my tailbone and bit my shoulder between the bone and my neck. You kissed me and I soaked you up breathing you in and wedging my nose between your neck biting you back. I bit you hard enough to leave marks. We laughed. We discussed various nothings. You tickled me. I squealed and I looked into your eyes. You look like an owl. A big, dark eyed owl.

My emotion was in a ziplock. You pried it open. We got to your hotel. I showered. Came out with only a tshirt. Our bodies enveloped each other as we violently crawled around the bed. You picking me up. Tossing me. Me fighting, then surrendering. After the orgasms, I held you. You felt me breathing. You placed your hands on different sections of my back. Like a doctor listening to a heartbeat, your hands the stethoscope. The ten minute feeling returned.

I got up. I put my clothes on. You watched me dress. I put on my flat sandals instead of my Louboutins. I had no one to impress in my cab ride back to the East Village. You sat and watched me, your head propped up against your right hand, like a 37 year old male model, sexy posed...wide-eyed like a doe. Deep brown chocolate black doe-owl. Not human. Curiosity instead of compassion. Observing me like I was a NatGeo spectacle.

Then we moved toward the door, I kiss you goodbye, we embrace. I cry. You are cocaine. You don not feel for me what I feel.

I cannot look you in the eyes. Salty drips down my face. Elevator takes minutes. Literal minutes. I slouch my shoulders down as if I can sink into the floor. You watch from the door. WHY ARE YOU WATCHING ME.

I cry the whole way home. You text "Te quiero."

I manically text my friend to keep from responding. I want to SCREAM at you. You want to keep me hooked.

Since my flights home from you, I find myself eating chocolate. I have never craved chocolate before in my life. I do not even LIKE chocolate. But I am eating it like a maniac. I have frozen bars in my fridge and I eat them when I cannot sleep after I brush my teeth. If you text me, I smoke a joint so I do not respond. I want to respond. I want to keep you. I told you I wish your were keepable.

"I want you to be in my life long term" You said, and continued, "Because that means more to me than just sex, which means nothing to me."

Long-term.

I'm having conversations with you, with myself, in my silence. Someday you will call me as if nothing has changed. Only with those silent conversations with myself, I will have said everything I wanted to say to you, and you will mean nothing to me.

Lone tree.

Boozey Blues

2010-07-29T07:43:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

Looking forward to you packing your things and growing up. Your maturity or lack there of, causes a sting that preserves only your childish insecurities. Your integrity and sincerity is questionable and leaves me frightened from time to time. I want to get to know you more and ride this out for as long as we can always happy, exploring the world together and feeling the flight of adventure every corner we turn.

Why can't you just be in love, and consumed with the satisfaction of a swollen heart provides.

Guildford

2010-07-27T16:45:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

Looking forward to laying in the grass, so fecund and ambrosial. Singing softly to you. And the quiet country hills rolling along the dotted line of our hoot and howl. Holding hands like baby chickens.

love,

Pumpkin

Who knows how to make love stay?

2010-07-23T01:00:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

1. Tell love you are going to the Junior's Deli on Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn to pick up a cheesecake, and if love stays, it can have half. It will stay.

2. Tell love you want a momento of it and obtain a lock of its hair. Burn the hair in a dime-store incense burner with yin/yang symbols on three sides. Face southwest. Talk fast over the burning hair in a convincingly exotic language. Remove the ashes of the burnt hair and use them to paint a mustache on your face. Find love. Tell it you are someone new. It will stay.

3. Wake love up in the middle of the night. Tell it the world is on fire. Dash to the bedroom window and pee out of it. Casually return to bed and assure love that everything is going to be all right. Fall asleep. Love will be there in the morning.

Over it

2010-07-14T14:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Johns,

You are all completely crappy assholes.

Swoon

2010-07-11T17:21:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

CALLMECALLMECALLME.

CALL ME.

Caaaaaaaall me.

Call me?

(Please.)

Forever Dream

2010-07-08T17:46:00.001-07:00

Dear John,

I won't text you anymore. I still think you're a hot babe though. The minute I open up even the slightest is the same minute I close down. It's just how I am. I hope maybe someday I'll be able to feel something real, but the more time goes on the less I believe that's true.

And all I know of love is how to live without it.

Backs of Buildings

2010-07-06T09:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

What a perfect fantasy you are! I want to do things to every inch of you. I want to invent a new level of pleasure with you. It's ok baby, I want to kiss your whole self. Beautiful sidewalker babe, I love. How do you you know what to say to me at all times? I don't like the ocean anymore. I hate the ocean. I wish these stars were above both of our heads. Marry me. I'll be your man in public and your slave in private.

Wish you were there, wish you were here. I'll soon be in a deep slumber. I'll dream of you. Sweet dreams, you little peach pie.

Ryebread

2010-06-27T14:04:00.001-07:00

Dear John,

Really? Really? Really? Really? Oh my god, oh my god, OH. MY. GOD. Is this really happening?

Are we really listening to Leonard Cohen and making out in your bed? How are you such a hot babe? I especially like when you put your beard there. YES, there..... down there. Right there, god.

Ummm, I think I am probably dreaming. I never got on that plane, I never went swimming on the roof, I never snuck that whisky into the bar. You didn't kiss me behind the building, and you didn't hold my hand. I didn't sit on your lap or whisper in your ear. We never went back to yours and we're not actually here lying in bed the next morning. This must be metaphysical.

WAIT. Did I just hear that correctly? You may have written a song about me? You're band doesn't even know? Excuse me, but is this reality? It's a good song too. How long ago did you write this? THAT long ago? Are you kidding? How long have you been holding these fantasies, these secrets? How did I not even have the slightest idea?

I want you to sing it to me from the tops of buildings. I want to fly with you. I want this ocean between us to evaporate when I blow on it. I want to kiss your eyelids when you sleep.

Someday?

Love In a Hot Climate

2010-06-09T16:22:00.000-07:00

Little of our bodies touched the mattress or couch or counter. We were always mid-air, a dance and nothing less. She was the choreographer and led me into the most beautiful sex. Partly it was breath, shaping of breath. It was tender, but at times she liked it to be just a little rough. We choked and panted and bit and licked. We wanted to feel, and we constantly discovered new things. Sex as invention and expression. Sex as a refusal to remain separate or alone. Sex as a refusal to believe the world.

A loft lined with windows looked down on all the bubbles, our own hidden space like the cockpit of an airship, our private Hindenburg. We never used the air-conditioning. We liked the sweat, the slick movements, the strands of wet hair over our eyes. She wore light summer dresses with nothing underneath. Clothing was costume and prop, used for tying or wrapping but never withholding.

- David Vann

What They Call Love

2010-06-01T13:15:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane

I wish I was a better lover.

I wish I was a better friend.

I wish I was a better partner.

I wish I could open up to you.

I wish, I wish, I want.

I want you, and I wish I was good enough.

But I'm not and I'm glad you love me just the same.

John

Other lover

2010-05-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

Dear John

I thought I should explain my little outburst earlier really. Firstly, of course I care about you - I care about you too damn much and no matter how hard I try I can't make it go away. I am sick so I might as well be honest.

I have tried so so hard to keep you in my life but the truth is, I'm not over you, which is mildly ridiculous because I was never under you.

This is quite hard to write.

I have tried with her, trust me. I have no ill wish for her, it's just everytime I hear from her or see her post something about you it's like another little stab, another little hurt, another little confidence knock. It truly makes me feel sick. I am not trying to be with you, I wouldn't want (or have the chance) to steal you away, I just quite simply can't see it anymore.

Been lying here trying to work stuff out in my head. It's not about what you look like or what your chosen career is. It's all about you. The way you are. I look at you and I see someone so beautiful yet conflicted by self doubt. Sometimes when I have looked into your eyes, I've just want to tell you everything is going to be ok. The way you make me feel is hard to explain. But to explain as best I can, you are always on my mind, the first thing I think about when I wake up. The person who I want to share my day things with and the dream that helps me sleep at night, the one that keeps away the nightmares.

When you got back with her I said I would always be your friend. I would be mature and accept it. I have accepted it. I've just found it confusing. I have found myself wishing I lived nearer to you - so you could see me more, get to know me more. I feel like you didn't take the chance to know me, the time we spent together always had a limit. I know I'm not the prettiest girl but it is still hard to have someone choose someone else, quite blatently over you. And you didn't tell me for so long. I feel so stupid about it, she has told me so much about how you got together and I feel stupid because when I was still thinking that maybe you and I could be something, you were already with her. I know it's stupid, but I just feel like all those nice times we had together, well, it was just all me - all me thinking it. I feel stupid and not good enough.

This isn't irrational emotion. This is honest, you are all I have ever desired in a man. You don't crowd me, you let me breath. You are capable of dreaming and have the ambition and drive of everyone I have ever admired. You give me butterflies.

I can't bear you touching me because I feel like you'll feel my imperfections. I can't bear you touching me because I feel like you'll feel my heart beat.

This is me rescuing myself now. I can't open my heart. I desperately don't want to let you go but I have no choice left. I can't look at anyone else, yet you are in love. You a building a life and a home with someone whilst I can't even bring myself to drag myself out on a date.

Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed! I have terrible luck but I like to think I am a good person. Maybe one day, if I get through all of this right now, my luck will change with men. Maybe I'll get lucky.

So this is me signing off. I have hopefully helped you see how much I believe in you, my praise for you is true. When I say things to you I don't pad it out with fluff, I see you and I mean everyword.

I guess I'll see you in my dreams. I am so pleased I met you, you helped me feel emotion again.

Utah Cowboy

2010-05-17T14:43:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I really did not know what to do when you starting crying. Right there in the middle of the club at 4am, your beard catching the tragic tears streaming down your cheeks. I am pretty sure that laughing wasn't the appropriate response though.

5 years is long time, things can get weird.

Sorry, John.

love long distance

2010-05-13T07:32:00.000-07:00

dear john(s),

i feel like i exist very seperately from you. i am on my plane and you are on your's. we wave; perhaps we intersect at points, but generally, we're nowhere near each other. i spend time in the car, imagining what you think about, what you might wear to bed, how you comfort yourself when life feels overwhelming. i'm really interested but don't expect to have the answers any time soon.
i rode my bike in the rain, i called my friends. i took a bath and ate soy ice cream. i got to know some neighbors in the hall. i bought a hammer from the hardware store and put it under the sink. i do all these things in a tiny, private world. i do everything there. it's hard to remember the time when i was as connected as i was to my last john. it's hard to map out how that life happened.
maybe someday i'll hurry home to find a friend in bed. we'll be playing with our cat and watering our plants. maybe i'll bring up the paper from the coffee shop to share. maybe i'll pour two glasses of wine in the evening and watch movies on the tv and half groceries with a not so strange stranger.
until then, i'm very fine over here. i fumble and bumble around my house. i have late nights with friends and we smoke pot and order pizza. i walk home alone and comment to no one in particular about the big, dark sky.

love,
jane

High Top

2010-05-11T13:09:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I'm waiting for you to arrive at my house right now.

Can I be honest? You're too young for me. You're very nice, so sweet and caring. Not that I'm old or anything, but you're just 22. A young pup really. When I think about my priorities when I was 22, it makes me feel silly.

If I can be even more honest... you're just really pretty to look at, and you have a big penis. Those things are quite appealing when you're not looking for much more. I don't think it's going to work out, I'm afraid. But in the meantime, you're a lot of fun.

Life Project

2010-05-02T10:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Jonny,

I hope when you look down and see the feather you think of me.

Fondly yet with a slight pang of regret.

In some small way that feather represents our time.

I know whenever I see two magpies, I'll always smile for you.

I often think of your skin when there's a soft salmon-coloured sunset.

I'm not sad, I just like those humble memories.

I think it's because history is so elucidating.

Without it, we would lose each other in vast spaces.

Flying Blind

2010-04-27T14:25:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I can't read this letter to you this time. (which leaves me concerned for the future of our relationship--what else will I start hiding from you?)

We're moving in together in a matter of weeks. I consider this to be my last move, at least the last until we buy another house, together. But, to be honest with myself, I planned on never moving in with someone until I had the promise of lifelong commitment from him. Not an engagement ring, as I'm too much of a feminist to want that (and I think they're rather tacky), but a promise. A plan. And being that I'm not the first woman you've lived with and you've never told me otherwise, I believe this is just a "test" for you, to see if you'll keep loving me.

I'm afraid that you won't.

Love, jane

Grown-up

2010-04-26T11:57:00.000-07:00

Dear Jane,

I've known you since we were middle school, I used to make fun of how cute you were to all of my friends, I'm even pretty sure that some of my friends even liked you.

You only grew more beautiful as we grew older, I grew into manhood and by some grace of God an irrational Womanizer or at least that's the reputation I cultivated. I tried to grow up, and eventually reformed myself into the person my parents can be proud off. I hoped you'd be proud of me, but you barely noticed the boy that grew into the man.

You were known as the girl with the poor taste in guys, we even made fun of your last boyfriend, how if sharing a table with him and a piece of dry toast, how the dry toast would be more interesting. We could see why he was with you, but what was your excuse?

The truth is that thinking of you in the middle of a hectic work day makes me smile. What hurts is that you only come to me when you want something from me. That makes me sad. When you complain how their are no good guys left, well, that makes me want to gouge your eyes out....apparently their utility is wasted on you.

Sadly, I know that I'll always be languishing in the friend zone, not out of choice, but because I know your type far too well, and I'm not willing to compromise my awakened soul and become the morons that you tend to be attracted to.

I hope you change, but I know you won't. I'll always love a part of you, unfortunately, you'll never get to be loved completely and that is your loss.

John

Beach House

2010-04-25T15:58:00.000-07:00

Dear _____,

I want deep, irrational love.

Wallpaper

2010-04-25T15:18:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

I don't know why I have the incapacity to show unsolicited affection. You probably think I'm a frigid heartless shell, but really I just wanted to hold your hand at the cinema tonight. I kept thinking about it through the whole of the film. I am actually really romantic.

In my best efforts to conceal my overly romantic and whimsical tendencies, I act completely the opposite. Cold and locked away somewhere. And it's only when I actually like someone that I become incapacitated. I think it comes out of the fear of being seen as too keen, too emotional, too easy.

You kissed me all through the night on Friday and tonight, I wanted to kiss you all the same. I wanted to put my hands at the edges of your collarbone, the spot where it meets your chest, and kiss you long and slow with eyes closed but not all the way. I wanted to knot my arms and legs around your arms and legs. I wanted to touch my eyelashes to yours (my mom used to call them 'camel kisses'). I wanted to grab you by the neck and press my nose against your cheek.

Instead, I formed sentences that bored even my own self. I am really sorry for that.

Well here it is, John, I hope you give me a third chance. I'll make it up to you. I think you are really special.

Deserted

2010-04-10T12:09:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

One day you're hot, the next you're cold

one day you leave me in despair, the next you cover me up with gold

you say I'm yours with all your might

but that's just another saying of some kind

you like to see me dance around the room

covering my body with the silky sheets of our bedroom

we smoke and and you play with my hair

we zip a bottle of wild turkey

and I remain bare

on the floor helplessly looking at you

but you're not there to the rescue.

You fool, my fool...

You choke me and leave me stupid inner scars

for I daydream of you

and you daydream of streetcars

the world is nothing but a memory you always say

and that our love making will be knocking in the doorway

of the sweet time flown

like an old record of chet baker s trumpet moan

you left to wander out into the memory

leaving nothing but a creamy shirt and a fantasy

I sometimes wear that piece of cloth

thinking of the boy who left me for the world.

Whisper Rock versus Dirty Rock N Roll

2010-03-22T10:34:00.001-07:00

Dear John,

I slept with someone else. And finally too, as I was approaching near to celibacy. (Yeah, thanks for that by the way.)

And yet after weeks of zero communication from your end, you conveniently choose to call when I am in the throes of another lovers gentle eyes and sharp tongue.

Do you have some kind of cosmic radar for these things?

Bared

2010-03-22T10:18:00.000-07:00

Dear John,

Discreetly, I have been touched
By many unwanted hands,
Therefore my youth had been defiled
Innocence lost within time's sands.

But no hand could ever take me back
Like yours tenderly wrapped in mine,
As you placed a line of soft lipped kiss
So sweetly down my spine.

And in that instance I forgot
The darkness of my past,
For all I could think of was your face
And that I had found home at last.

But as I explain to you this liking
Our clothes careless on the floor,
You remain taciturn with lips unmoving
And I, your wanton lovestruck whore.

Begrudgingly yours,
Jane

Las Vegas

2010-02-15T08:09:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

The first time I heard “Fake Empire” by the National was in Las Vegas. I don’t think there is a more apt place to listen to that song, our car rolling by the extravagance of the strip to the dilapidated downtown hotels. Armed with daiquiris we took in the light show, with the girls' striptease on overhead screens. You consumed me, and when asked to go along to film your video for a song about breaking up, I jumped.

I was disappointed by the everything. Going under the pretenses that there was a re-connection to be discovered and some warm sun to soak up (or at least a warm hot-tub to soak in) I was jilted from my dream to find it all colder than I had expected. “Sweet, um, we’re ex-lovers and all, and although we’re in the city of sin, ya ain’t getting my sorry smelly ass and oh btw I wrote this song and am not going to acknowledge the strange coincidence of situation and content.”

That’s what you said. Without using words.

I have woven my stories explaining you to myself, covering my bed in patchwork knitted tatters that when sewn together make a man I’d like to love. Somewhere between the separate beds and Nebraska I realize the myth I mourned was simply a figment of my stereo. All you are is lonely and all I am is adrift, complicating any season with the worry of the next and taking careful measures to remember it all.

Rock on lonely troubador, rock on.

Love Always,
Jane

sherbetsheets

2010-01-29T09:37:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I have this dream I'm embarrassed to share with you.  I dream about being in a big bedroom with tall ceilings and a large bed.  The window has soft curtains that breathe in and out with the breeze and the bed is dressed in soft sheets that are all the kinds of colors of sherbet.  It's late afternoon and there's a record playing in another room.  We're laying on the bed with our shirts mussed up around our torsos.  Maybe I'm smoking, though I'm not trying to do too much of that.  Maybe you're humming.  Other than the sounds these little activities make there is just the lull of the fan.  A floor fan.  A large, old, square, floor fan.  On low.  With some magnets stuck to it.  We lay in bed and play accordingly until the light changes and we get up to make food or go read in another room, such as the room with the records.  

It's a sweet dream.  It's almost too sugary to share.  I just want to lay around in bed with you in the perfect conditions.  I'd like to wait until evening and make some honey chicken and green beans.  I'd like to find a decently comfortable couch and some lamps and carry on relaxing into the night.  Maybe then we could take a walk, sometimes holding hands, going at a steady, even pace.  When we came home, I could say my legs got cold and you could hurry me back upstairs to bed.

Instead, you've moved far away and we share text messages, not pillows.  You're introducing some important speaker tonight and you asked me about ties.  I imagine you'll use a podium.  I'll be babysitting and carrying on with kids.  I'll let them stay up late and I'll think about you wearing your tie and using your podium.  You'll probably send me a message after expressing how well it went and I'll feel a little angry because I just want to be lying around in a nice bed with you.  

Love,

Me

Smoking and Waiting

2010-01-26T18:18:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Remember the part where I said you were my moon?

Yeah well, I changed my mind.

You fucking suck.

Learn how to text message.

Oh There You Are

2010-01-22T10:16:00.000-08:00

Dear John,
I love you.
Loving you makes each day better.
Loving you makes flowers smell better, and waking in the middle of the night surrounded by your arms the best part of my day.
You have caused a ridiculous flutter in my heart beat that has redefined its source of rhythm
Can I have you forever.

loose change

2010-01-22T09:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Joan,

   You know exactly 'that which has passed'- and that's barely nothin'! just a couple of smooches, a few neck nuzzles and just a bit of back/hip touching- all of which for some reason won't leave my head! I can't tell if I've thought about the softness of yr lips or hips more...

What I do know on the other hand, is that life is tough and mundane and there are only a few experiences which can really pull me momentarily away from it. The raw sensation of touching another human, kissing, this fleeting moment of becoming one with another is truly one of those few instances of ecstatic bliss bestowed upon us. There has recently been a spark, a small flame between us (although I've kinda felt it for years? maybe just me though...) but we'll sweep out the ashes if we need to....

IV

2010-01-05T15:47:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Good night, you are my moon!

Two magpies

2010-01-01T09:13:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

When you touch me, even for just a moment in some small delicate way, I feel contented. When I hear you speak, I feel soothed. And when your eyes look into mine, I melt.

Till the day I die

2009-12-29T09:50:00.000-08:00

Please don't cry
For the ghost and the storm outside Will not invade this sacred shrine Nor infiltrate your mind
My life down I shall lie
If the bogey-man should try
To play tricks on your sacred mind
To tease, torment, and tantalise
Wavering shadows loom
A piano plays in an empty room
There'll be blood on the cleaver tonight
And when darknesss lifts and the room is bright
I'll still be by your side
For you are all that matters And I'll love you to till the day I die There never need be longing in your eyes
As long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
Ceiling shadows shimmy by
And when the wardrobe towers like a beast of prey
There's sadness in your beautiful eyes
Oh, your untouched, unsoiled, wonderous eyes
My life down I shall lie
Should restless spirits try To play tricks on your sacred mind I once had a child, and it saved my life
And I never even asked his name I just looked into his wondrous eyes And said : "never never never again"
And all too soon I did return Just like a moth to a flame
So rattle my bones all over the stones I'm only a beggar-man whom nobody owns
Oh, see how words as old as sin Fit me like a glove
I'm here and here I'll stay
Together we lie, together we pray There never need be longing in your eyes
As long as the hand that rocks the cradle is mine
Mine Climb up on my knee, sonny boy Although you're only three, sonny boy You're - you're mine And your mother she just never knew
Oh, your mother ... As long ... as long ... as long I did my best for her I did my best for her.

Blush

2009-12-29T09:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Joan,

Sometimes your laughter, so sharply sweet-icicles bathed in raw, warm honey-twirls up and palms the back of my throat, caressing those twitching cords. And I cannot speak (merely momentary).

It is like this, a catch of cold breath just behind the uvula, and subsequent sigh of relief as one bravely exhales-that defines our love. After this fickle see-saw of days gone by, you and I are WE. And I am in awe. Of you. Of us. Of the world through those piercingly peaceful eyes.

Cheers,

To love.

To laughter.

To finding something incandescent in every little thing.

To us, dollface.

I am proud of your patience, and would be nowhere without the constant expectation of your arms, around me always, sometime soon.

Happy anniversary, you’re the champion of my all.

Love,

Joan

Men

2009-12-28T11:05:00.000-08:00

They hail you as their morning star

Because you are the way you are.

If you return the sentiment,

They'll try to make you different;

And once they have you, safe and sound,

They want to change you all around.

You moods and ways they put a curse on;

They'd make of you another person.

They cannot let you go your gait;

They influence and educate

They'd alter all that they admired.

They make me sick, they make me tired.

Dreams

2009-12-24T07:38:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Now here you go again
You say you want your freedom
Well, who am I to keep you down?
It's only right that you should
Play the way you feel it

But listen carefully to the sound
Of your loneliness
Like a heartbeat drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering
What you had
And what you lost...
And what you had...
And what you lost

(Oooooh)

Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
Say, women...they will come and they will go
When the rain washes you clean, you'll know
You'll know

Now here I go again, I see, the crystal visions
I keep my visions to myself
It's only me
Who wants to wrap around your dreams and...
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness...
Like a heartbeat drives you mad...
In the stillness of remembering
What you had
And what you lost...
What you had...
Ooh, what you lost

Pasta dinner

2009-12-16T14:46:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

We work together, so it's weird. But I secretly like you because of your designer trousers and the hole in your left sock. You stuck by my side all night and I can't help but think it's because you secretly like me back. I know you don't smoke, and I do but it's fun anyway.

Srsly

2009-12-15T05:02:00.000-08:00

Dear Joan,

Is it so hard to adore me and don't question my mistakes?

See me for what I really am, PERFECT

Love,
John

Egg

2009-12-11T10:59:00.000-08:00

Dear Chicken,

Inexperience and a pinch of aloof are no longer an excuse for hurting ones feelings. I feel trapped in a box you conceal somewhere between your heart and your genitals. My brief appearance in your life will continue to go unknown according to your actions.

Night Time

2009-12-10T12:49:00.000-08:00

You mean that much to me
And it's hard to show
Gets hectic inside of me
When you go
Can I confess these things
To you
Well I don't know
Embedded in my chest
And it
Hurts to hold

I couldn't spill my heart
My eyes gleam looking in from the dark
I walk out in stormy weather
Hold my words, keep us together
Steady walking but bound to trip
Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time
Sympathize
I've been working on
White lies
So I'll tell the truth
I'll give it up to you
And when the day come
It will have all been fun
We'll talk about it soon

And I couldn't spill my heart
My eyes gleam
Looking in from the dark
I walk out in stormy weather
Hope my words keep us together
Steady walking but bound to trip
Should release but just tighten my grip

Night time
Sympathize
I've been working on
White lies
So I'll tell the truth
I'll give it up to you
And when the day come
It will have all been fun
We'll talk about it soon

Not much

2009-12-07T15:06:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

Is it really too much to ask to put your penis only in me? C'mon Really?

Baby I Miss You

2009-12-07T15:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Johnny,

Castle in the Cloud

2009-12-01T13:51:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

You always make me feel better. I forget everything else when I hear your voice, I don't think about how everything seems like its falling apart. You and I, we're just going to end up being two confused and overly complicated old people together- but that's just how we are.

Gutted

2009-11-29T02:38:00.001-08:00

Dear John,

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

Always

2009-11-23T09:57:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-22T05:30:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-19T16:59:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-11-19T09:10:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-18T13:58:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-17T00:42:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-14T04:59:00.001-08:00

An easy life I would lead without you, Johns.

Poland meets Croydon

2009-11-14T04:52:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-13T00:42:00.000-08:00

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.

it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
PostingID: 1317051655

Tight around the thighs

2009-11-12T16:17:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-10T13:24:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-10T12:52:00.000-08:00

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.

2009-11-09T09:57:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-08T01:26:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-07T00:49:00.000-08:00

Other side of the ocean

2009-11-06T00:22:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-05T03:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Johns,

Why can't you just love me back?

princess warrior

2009-11-05T03:27:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-04T17:48:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I probably didn't want you anyway.

Coward

2009-11-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

Dear John,

I fear that you love me too much.

xx,
Jane

Misnomer

2009-11-03T08:33:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-03T03:42:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-03T03:29:00.000-08:00

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

2009-11-01T11:04:00.001-08:00

Dear John,

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