NOTE: This describes acts of a mature and sexual nature, you have been warned
Brad,
It would be difficult for me to be any more miserable right now, I feel
like the worst person ever. First, let me start by saying that I am
truly truly sorry, and I hate myself for hurting you. Of all the people
in the whole entire world, you were honestly the last person that I
would ever want to wrong in any way. There is no excuse at all or
anything that happened, so I won't even try other than to say all of us
had WAY too much to drink, and I did a stupid thing. I can handle you
being pis.sed at me, I absolutely deserve it, I can even handle the ugly
words that were exchanged between us, what I can't handle is thinking
that you see me as a different person.
It is weird, I feel like I just went through a horrible break up or
something. The world looked funny yesterday, I couldn't crack a smile if
you paid me, there are songs I can't listen to, and I just feel beyond
crushed. I don't know if you meant everything you said to me, and I am
hoping that you didn't. I know that I was wrong on many levels, but I am
also hoping that this is something that we can deal with. I know it
sounds totally crazy and stupid, but you have come to play such a
significant role in my life, I can't imagine my days without you.
It is totally strange and weird to say that, and you could say that my
behavior didn't reflect that, and you would be correct. I hate feeling
like you hate me, and I hate feeling like all of your friends think I am
a terrible person, because I am not. I know there is nothing I can Say
or do to take back what happened, but I just want you to know that
fighting with you was just about the worst thing I could have ever
imagined. It was right up there with one of the ugliest nights of my
life, and I would give anything in the world to rewind and fix it. I am
not sure if you will respond to this, part of me thinks that you won't.
If not today, then maybe some other time.
Also, thanks for getting my stuff together, although I think my
sunglasses are still at your house, if you could keep your eyes peeled
for them that would be great. I can't even focus or work today, I can't
eat, I seriously feel like it was an ugly break up, and I am hoping
against hopes that it was not that and you are not done with me. Please
don't cut me off, I really don't think I can handle that.
I am so sorry.
Elizabeth
RESPONSE:
Dear Elizabeth,
Thank you for your concern. I'll be sure to file it away under "L" for
"Long-winded diatribes from drunken whores I couldn't care less about".
You did a stupid thing huh? No...doing long division and forgetting to
carry the one is "a stupid thing"; Mixing in a red sock with a load of
whites is "a stupid thing"; Blowing some guy in a bathroom for 45minutes
while I sit at the bar wondering if you're taking so long because you
ate too much bran that morning isn't as much a "Stupid thing" as it is
grounds for permanent removal from my social calendar.
To be honest, I'm not sure if it was more amusing that you went and
degraded yourself in a public toilet not once but twice in a 2 hour
span, or that you seemed to think that by saying "Well, I didn't F**k
him" somehow gave you a clean slate. So forgive me if I couldn't care
less if the world "looked funny" to you yesterday. Since your world
revolves around blow dryers, golden retrievers, Prada Bags and Jelly
Beans, I'm sure it must have been most unsettling to actually have to
consider someone else's feelings for 24 hours straight. The good news
for you is that my friends don't think you're a terrible person, they
just think you're the average run of the mill cum-guzzling blonde who
commands about as much respect as your average child porn collector. I
could be wrong but, it's pretty hard to respect some B&T chick who comes
out to spend the night at my place even though she's seeing someone else
in New jersey and winds up tongue-bathing the taint of anyone who
decides 30 minutes of droning commentary on Colin Farrell's new
haircut is worth putting up with for a hand job in the men's room. The
good thing about being a guy is that when I eventually bump into the
young lad who finger-blasted you on top of a towel dispenser last
saturday, we'll have a shot and laugh our heads off about the time it
happened.
By the way, for the amount of time you claim to spend in spin class you
really must be doing something wrong to sport the thunder thighs you do.
Watching you parade around my bedroom in a thong was a little like
watching sea lions mate. Thought you might like to know.
PS. I forwarded about 100 people on this email.
Talk to you never,
Brad
