Letter to Terri

There was an email that I received several months ago. I had actually forgotten about it until I was deleting old earlier. I have to share this with you. Enjoy:

Sometimes it becomes difficult to just "let go" of old relationships. As an example, read on about the following guy, who writes to his ex-wife of more than fifteen years. It will bring tears to your eyes. Really.

Dear Terri:

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 didn't want to be the first one to make contact. In my fantasies, it was 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. Maybe it's time we let our hearts speak as loudly as our hurt. And this is what my heart says..."There's no one like you, Terri."

I look for you in the eyes of every woman I see, but they're not you. They're not even close. Two weeks ago, I met this girl at the Rainbow Room 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, Terri, 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. Breasts you wouldn't believe and a back porch like a tortoise shell. Every man's dream, right?

But as I sat on the couch looking at the top of her head, I thought, look at the stuff we've made important in our lives. It's all so superficial. What does a perfect body mean? Does it make her better in bed? Well, even if it does, you see what I'm getting at. Does it make her a better person? Does she have a better heart than my moderately attractive Terri? I doubt it. And I'd never really thought like that before. I don't know, maybe I'm just growing up a little.

Later, after she'd left, I found myself thinking, "Why do I feel so drained and empty?" It wasn't just her flawless technique or her shameless hunger, but something else. Some niggling feeling of loss. Why did it feel so incomplete?And then it hit me. It didn't feel the same because you weren't there, Terri, to watch. Do you know that I mean? Nothing feels the same without you, baby.

Jesus, Terri, I'm just going crazy without you. And everything I do just reminds me of you. Do you remember Carol, that single mom we met at church? Well, she dropped by last week with a pan of lasagna. She said she figured I wasn't eating right without a woman around. I didn't know what she meant till later, but that's not the real story. Anyway, we have a few glasses of wine and the next thing you know we're in our old bedroom. And she was giving me everything, you know like a real woman does when she's not hung up about God and her career and whether the kids can hear us. And all of a sudden she spotted that tilting mirror on your grandmother's old vanity. So she put it on the floor and we straddled it, you know, so we could watch ourselves. And it was totally hot, but it made me sad, too. Because I couldn't help thinking, "Why didn't Terri ever put the mirror on the floor? We've had this old vanity for about 14 years, and we never used it as a sex aid."

You know what I mean? What happened to our spontaneity? You get so caught up in the routine of a marriage and you just lose sight of each other. And then you lose yourself. That's the saddest part of all for me.

But I keep thinking we can get it back. I know we can, because I only want to do this stuff with you. Saturday, your sister dropped by with my copy of the restraining order. I mean, Shannon's just a kid and all, but she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders. She's been a real friend to me during this painful time. She's given me lots of good counsel about you and about women in general. (She's pulling for us to get back together, Terri. She really is.)

So we were drinking in the hot tub and talking about happier times. Here was this attractive girl with the same DNA as you (although, let's be honest, she got an extra helping of the "sexy" gene), and all I could think of how much she looks like you did when you were 27. And that just about made me cry. And then it turned out Shannon's really into the whole anal thing, and that started me 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 discovering this whole new side of your sister, all I can do is think of you? It's true, baby. In your heart you know it.

Don't you think we could start over? Just wipe out all the grievances and start fresh? I think we can. I keep thinking that if you'd just try it, I wouldn't have to pressure you so much. Because who needs all that bitterness, Terri? It just tears us apart. And I can't be apart from you.

Because I love you.