Love Letters........

The All-Star

It wasn't your fault really. I was still so young. I had had a crush on you for so long, pedastalizing you, scripting you, scripting us. With you I finally understood the difference between a documentary movie and Disney. Crushes can be easily scripted, painted any color you like, but real life- adult relationships are much more complicated. You could have had anyone, and you did. But you took your time and got to know me, and I you. You were so much like me. I fell in love with that. But you were weak. You were a liar. You were a weak liar.

"I need you."

I wanted you to need me.

"I trust you."

I wanted so much to trust you.

"I miss you."

And everytime I would come back. Back to a lie. But one that I wanted to hear. I wanted to help you. But I had to read about other women in the newspaper.

"Don't believe that. You know the media. They manipulate things."

The last time I saw you should have been beautiful. Instead you were sad, pathetic. You were a drunk. All of the people you had around you, and no one cared. No one but me. I told you. "You're a drunk." You had to stop. Bottles strewn everywhere. This was where I learned lifes' lesson. Money, fame, cannot buy you happiness.

I slept with you. It was goodbye.

You went on to date the supermodel. You treated her the same. You're a a fucking idiot. But its not your fault. You never were malicious. You're just weak. I pedastalized you because that's what I used to do. I've learned. Thanks for the lesson.


The Year Long Rebound

We never should have dated. You're a Leo.

You were everything he wasn't. You were controlled. unemotional. logical. I now know I hate those things.

I'm not saying I hate you. I love you. Just not in that way.

The night we met you never left my side. You told me I was beautiful. I believed you. You were sincere. You were handsome. I knew of you. Other girls wanted you.

When you picked me up you opened the passenger door for me. You never stopped doing that. I liked it.

You took me to Kentucky Fried Chicken on our first date. It was our first date. But I'm no snob, so I thought nothing of it. Two months later we'd never been too a nice restaurant.

"You're cheap" I'd say.

"I'm frugal." You'd say.

Then you pulled up in your new lexus. "I was saving for the car."

I realized then that you would always be trying to save for that next big thing, while meanwhile the daily pleasures of life passed you, passed us by. I didn't need a Lexus. I lived in a city with arguably the best restuarants in America and I wanted to occasionally eat at them. I wanted to go to the movies or sleep on at least 300 count sheets.

You didn't know how to touch me. When you caressed me it felt like someone petting their dog.

I knew your voicemail code. You should probably not use your birthday.

I didn't want to check it. But everyone said I should. I knew I wouldn't find anything. I was dissapointed when I did.

I was naseaus when I asked you who Sophia was and you said you didn't know any Sophia. This made me want to stab you. But I am a peaceful person so I just let it go. You were the rebound guy and I was secretly still in love with him.

Soon came the Puerto Rico fiasco. You would play for them for the summer. Paradise. beaches. $2.oo breakfast feast at the cafe every morning. We were having a wonderful time. Until we weren't. You fought with me because I gave water to a dog that followed us on the street. A small, white, fluffy dog so obviously once someone's pet. You hate dogs. You yelled at me for giving him water. This was a dealbreaker. We started fighting about everything. But then you needed me.

You were betrayed. We had to leave. This was the first time I ever witnessed true vulnerability in your eyes. I was there for you. At the airport we sat. You cried. It was the first time I saw you shed a tear. Not even when your grandfather died. You were finally showing emotion. We talked. Really talked. If only this had come sooner. I never really really knew you. And maybe you never really knew me. We both had walls up. We needed each other. You loved my beauty, my kindess and generosity. I needed your control, detachment, reliability.

I have no idea how we broke up. But you're a best friend now. The only ex I can count as such. I'm still trying to figure you out......

The PUSSY

I hate you. I really really hate you.

I was a beautiful person when I met you. Now I am broken. That is your fault. I believed in the base human decency of all-mankind, however naive, until you changed everything.

I wasn't looking for you. I wasn't looking for anyone. I was finally free. Happy being alone. Learning to be comfortable in my own skin. I was growing up. I found my passion. All I wanted to do was walk to the restroom. You kidknapped me. You had my arm. It was crowded. Beyond crowded. I needed an escort. You looked harmless. If only I knew. I didn't think you were attractive. I thought you were average. The sweater you were wearing was ugly. But you were so taken with me. It was nice. And though you kidknapped me by the arm it wasn't rough. You were gentle. You wanted to know me. You asked if you could call somtime. I rarely gave my number out. I said alright. The next day I forgot about you. You were forgettable.

That night you called. I wasn't home. When I listened to the voicemail I debated returning your call. I now know I shouldn't have. But I did. We talked for hours. You were shocked that I could talk to you about sports. We were comfortable. Like we had known each other forever. We both knew. This was different for me. I hardly could remember what you looked like. This wasn't about attraction for me, no school girl crush. I didn't want you because someone else did. You made me laugh. We spoke for a week. It was the first week of lies. You had a daughter but you were afraid to tell me. By the end of the week when you did I laughed.

"I love children." I said.

You were relieved. But I should have been the scared one. It was your daughter. You shouldn't have kept her a secret, even if just by omission, even for a week. It was a week we spoke for hours every day. What else would you hide for fear of my judgment.

Before our first date you brought your daughter by my apartment. She was beautiful. I was glad you felt comfortable enough to introduce us. You dropped her off at home then picked me up. The restaurant you chose was perfect. The dish you recommended delicious. I saw the bill and went for my purse. You wouldn't have it. The way you looked at me made me nervous. I liked it. You saw me. You memerized everything about me. We kissed that night. It was like being kissed by the ocean.

It was nearly a month before we had sex. We spent nearly every minute leading up to that moment together. At my apartment, at the studio... I would work while you would mix, dinner, the movies. We were inseperable except for the few hours you went home to sleep and take care of your daughter. You tried to make me a Laker fan. I told you I was Knicks 4 life. Everywhere we went people looked at us and smiled. We were good together. They knew.

A few months went by. I was never happier in my life. We were in love.

Then you dropped the bomb.

Mandy came out from LA and I wanted you to meet her. It was important you get along. She was my best friend. You picked us up with Brian. We went to Bar 89. Mandy talked to you. Then she got drunk off of Martini's.

I wanted to believe you. I did. It was possible. We were always together. It made sense. She went to work at 6 in the morning. You only got home at 6. She came home at 5. You left at between 12 and 2pm. You took your daughter to daycare. She picked her up. How could you be seeing each other? I was with you every day, every night. You bought the house when you found out she was having the baby. You weren't together, but you weren't with anyone else. You wanted to raise your daughter. It made sense. You resented your dad for being a deadbeat. You didn't want to do that same thing to your daughter. I believed you. I understood.

But did she understand? Why was she searching through your things? Why did she email me? And why were you so afraid of me emailing her back.

I should have left you then. I tried. I told you we needed to take a break. That you needed to figure things out before we could continue. Your life had changed. You couldn't continue living two lives. You listened. You tried to pacify me. You told her all about me. She packed up and moved out. She played you.

She told you she was going to take your daughter to Pennsylvania. You panicked. You pushed me away. I told you she couldn't do that. You were supporting her. She had a bullshit part-time job. You earned six-figures. You owned the house your daughter had lived in her entire life. You could ask for primary or equal custody. You had no spine. You were the same with your mother.

I told you I was going to my parents. It was best for both of us if leave the city for a little while, to give us both space, time to reflect. We needed to figure out what was best for each of us. You told me not to. You said I was running. You told me to stay and you would fix everything. I should have said FUCK YOU. Instead I stayed.

Fixing everything turned into her moving back in after a week. You told me you discussed it. She understood everything. It was merely a custodial arrangement for your daughter. Nothing more. And she was alright with that. They would be staying in the house in the long term and soon you would be moving into an apartment on your own.

I believed you. You loved me. You wouldn't hurt me. You sought me out. When I told you it was over you shed a tear. You couldn't let me go. I couldn't let you go. When you got on the plane to Miami before going to do the Missy song you made sure to tell me you loved me. It was almost like it was going to be the last time.

Things were never the same after that.

The first few phonecalls I didn't pay much mind too. Wrong numbers maybe. But then it got stranger. And then She called. And she started yelling at me. I tried to calm her down.

She wasn't very smart. In fact, she was ghetto. And I can say that because she terrorized me. So yeah, she was fucking ghetto. She told me you were on your way to my apartment. "Why?" I said.

"Because I just told him you sent me a letter threatening our daughter."

This is where she knew you better than I did. This is where she knew your soft spot for your daughter superceded anything and everything. She knew if she could fabricate something threatening harm against your daughter any sense of rational or logic would go out the window with you. Because if you had TWO functioning brain cells you would have remembered who I was, and that I don't even step on cockroaches. I barely cursed before we met YOU FUCKING BASTARD. And she knew that before I came into your life she had everything she wanted, a beautiful house in a posh area in New Jersey, a luxury car and the man she loved. Now that was all threatened. You weren't married. She wasn't guarenteed anything.

You actually asked me if I wrote it. I told you to go to hell, and spend a while thinking about things while you were there. I told you what she was doing. That you were being manipulated. It was so sad for me to watch. I wanted you to protect me. Not accuse me.

It only got worse from there. By now Mandy had moved out from LA. We had spent the day in the Village shopping. Shortly after coming home psycho babies mama called my cell phone.

"You were at my job today!"

"Scuze me? Who is this?" I asked.

"You know who this is bitch. I know you were at my job. The security officer told me. I know what you look like." And she proceeded to describe me. "Stop coming here or I'm going to report you."

I told her to go ahead. The only way she could know exactly what I look like is if she was stalking ME. Because SHE worked for the phone company and knew all of my information. I had no idea where her office was. Nor did I have any interest. For the next few weeks a few mornings a week I would be awoken in the morning by her, pretending to be someone else, someone named Rachel. It was always something new. Some new disease she told me you had. Sometimes she started out saying you gave it to her, then contradicting herself saying she gave it to you. She was a moron. She said she, "Rachel" was another girl you were seeing. I asked where she got my number from. She didn't have an answer. I asked why she sounded so much like "T", your PBM. She didn't have an answer. I filed a police report and had the phone company trace the calls. They were able to find out where your psycho baby mama worked and that all the calls came from payphones within blocks of her office. "Rachel" didn't have an answer for this. It was wearing on me. The constant phone calls. Her threats. Lies. I felt like I had walked on to a bad movie set and everyone had a copy of the script except me. I no longer knew what reality I was living.

This was your mess. My life was simple before I met you. In fact, it was the simplest it had been in a long time. I was happy. Single, alone, but content. When i met you, I had never known anyone like you, I never felt a love like yours, and I wanted that, but at what cost. Being terrorized day and night. You were a fucking pussy. And a liar. And to this day I don't know what the truth was... is. A few weeks later I ended up in a the hospital, having suffered a stroke. Paralyzed on one side. I had been sick for a month leading up to that. I was unbelievably stressed out. You didn't protect me. I will NEVER be with someone like you again. I put all of my trust into you and that was a mistake. You didn't deserve me or my love. You shattered my heart into a million little pieces. I'm a different person now, and that's sad. Because the person you met was unique and special, and should have been cherished. She would have been cherished by the one I'm with now, she would have been handled with care. Instead, you dropped me off a 50 story building.