The Love Letters: A Novella (12 page)

But nothing, absolutely nothing, can top the pleasure of your swollen, wet, pink labia wrapped tightly around my cock.

Aloha, ma femme.

Zach

February 10, 2003

Zach,

I don’t want to date anyone but you! I tried. I really did.

Maybe I went out last night because I was angry with you. Or maybe I’m just really lonely and horny. But most likely, my reason for dating was a shallow one. I wanted to wear a new dress and shave my legs because I needed to hear a man’s voice tell me I’m beautiful – a guy other than the cashier, Raji, at New Deli.

But guess what?! Besides the delicious Caesar salad sans anchovies, the date was a huge, gaping disappointment. He tried, but nothing he said or did could replace my emptiness without you. He was NO Zach.

Good news or not, I think we need to discuss the elephant in the room. Except that idiom doesn’t really work in a letter. We need to discuss the thing that is obvious that we choose to ignore – abstinence. There’s no way in hell I can go a year without being touched by a man.

Brilliant and efficient chick that I am, I submit to you a weights and balances system to hypothetically keep track of our activities. It should be noted that all of the suggestions below are hypothetical and not planned.

Flirting 1pt

Exchanging numbers 1pt

A date 2 pts

A kiss 2 pts

Dry humping 3 pts

Making out 4 pts

Sex in a bathroom at a bar 6 pts (almost impossible to enjoy)

Sex in a bedroom 8 pts

Sex on the couch 8 pts

Sex in a hotel room 8 pts

And if you’re reading this and wondering how many points I’ve racked up, then you’re a bastard. But if you’re reading this with a smile and thinking of ideas for playful revenge, then you’re my one true love. Forever.

Come home to me.

~Your Natalie

February 11, 2003

Nat,

I have a confession.

I love a goat and he loves me back. Gumby the goat followed us to our bunks last night and he won’t leave. Now technically, we’re not allowed to pillage the natural environment – plants, poppy, livestock, or women – but Gumby chose me. He’s infected with sand fleas or something, whines like a baby, and his teeth are obnoxiously large, but he’s the most loyal pet I’ve ever had.

Do you think I’ll get to keep him? Just imagine our Hawaiian future with a goat!

Remember things change without warning, but I heard I’m getting my first leave this summer. Which means sometime in the month of June or July, I’ll have two weeks to spend with ma femme. And as soon as I know, I’m booking our first-class flight to Hawaii. You’ll need to do all the shopping for our trip. Can you handle that? Although you won’t need any clothes for my dream vacation.

In keeping with the theme of our fast-approaching romantic vacation, I give you:

Top Five Places You Will Get Lei’d

   1. Beach

   2. Luau

   3. Outdoor shower

   4. Hotel Spa

   5. Hotel Suite

Stay strong, ma femme. I’ll be home soon.

Tu pense que tu es une etoile, mais tu es ma balise. You’re my beacon, Nat – never forget.

~Z

February 11, 2003

Zachy Wacky Poo,

Mothertrucking snow. Twenty centimeters and counting. Normally when I hear something is twenty centimeters and growing, my ears perk, but when referring to the amount of precipitation, it sucks. As usual, I was totally unprepared for the potential blizzard. Can I live on wine, Junior Mints and Twizzlers for two days?

*send search party if you don’t hear from me*

Molly is the best boss. She demanded I stay home until the streets are drivable, even though she knows I walk to work. So following orders and preparing for a few days in the apartment, I stopped by Blockbuster on my way home. Everyone always runs to the grocery and hardware stores before a snowstorm, but as you know, I have different agendas. Being the only person in the video store, I was able to score classics like
Encino Man
,
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
,
Harry and the Hendersons
, and
Dirty Dancing
. And because I was the only person smart enough to visit a video store, I wiped them out of candy.

Promise not to think I’m crazy? I’m imagining you’re here with me – and not in the metaphysical way, like really here. Right now you’re begging me to stop writing to come sit with you on the couch and watch the snow. To my surprise, you moved the couch so it now faces the window.

Heeding your sexy, dominant request, I turn off the light and crawl into your arms, never one to deny your mischievous smile and your need to be as close to me as possible.

We gorged on candy and watch the snow fall, sitting in silence as we converge into one soul. Moments before we fall asleep, you kiss me. It’s the kind of kiss that can break spells, awake the sleeping, and freeze time.

It’s our kiss.

Hours later, before the sun makes an appearance, you shake me off the couch and instruct me to get dressed in snow gear. Bundled up, we run down the five flights of stairs, dash through the lobby, and plow out into the snow.

You grab my hand and drag me through the fresh, untouched white blanket. We make it to the middle of Worth Street and then fall. But it doesn’t matter because the forty-centimeters of billowy powder breaks our fall. We don’t move, but we laugh – eliminating the uncomfortable stillness that doesn’t belong in our special moment.

It’s our snow globe.

XO Nat

February 11, 2003

Ma femme,

Today was a bad day.

I lost two brothers in a truck explosion near the Pakistani border. Extra patrol shifts have been added so I’ll be out of pocket for a few days. It kills me to know that you won’t get this letter until next week, but I promise, nothing will happen and you don’t need to worry. In fact, by the time you get this letter, I’ll be sipping some crappy coffee back at Camp Hammond.

And in a few months when we’re snorkeling in Hawaii, this will all have been worth it.

You’re my distraction from the pain, ma femme. That’s your assignment.

Zach

February 12, 2003

My love,

I woke up with a small hangover and a sore throat. Snowstorms do crazy things to crazy people.

I had the movies and candy, so naturally I thought I would be neighborly and invite Angie over for the evening. One glass of wine chased with Junior Mints eventually led to an entire bottle of Zinfandel. I cannot confirm or deny if there was a karaoke contest around midnight, but I’m pretty sure I won.

After a shower and some toast with Twizzlers, I laced up my new snow boots and went for a walk. The streets were nearly spotless, and the sidewalks were that slushy mess that the taxis fling from the dirty wheels as they zoom past. As I was sloshing down Broadway, the strangest thing happened – I got on a subway heading Uptown. Gathering my bearings, I hopped off near Central Park for some lunch. And then an even stranger thing happened. I ran up the steps of the Metropolitan Museum like Rocky.

Inside, I checked my coat, paid the suggested donation entrance fee, and then attached my free little button that said: I LOVE ART to my sweater. For obvious reasons, I walked-not-stopped through the Egyptian Art galleries and ended up in the American Wing. Very colonial and repetitive. And where exactly is the Canuck Wing may I ask? Does the Beaver Hall Group sound familiar? Anyway . . .

From America I made my way to Europe. Jesus Murphy! Monet, Cezanne, Van Gogh, and my personal favourite, Seurat! All the greats that I studied in college, framed and hanging right before my eyes. Have you ever stood in a room and felt completely insignificant? It was the first time that objects felt real to me – they were fucking talking to me, Zach!

There was one gallery in particular that eerily affected me. It housed nine canvases of different size and different subject matters. Other than the fact that the paintings were all from the Impressionist period, there were no similarities between the pieces. Why was Van Gogh’s sad little sunflowers residing next to Gaugin’s naked Tahitian women? Those dudes probably hated each other!

So what did I learn on my spontaneous detour to the Met? 1. The Café was over-priced and unsatisfying. 2. Kids in an art museum are fucking turds. 3. When something works without an obvious reason, it’s real and it’s beautiful. And you, my love, are my something.

Come home to me.

xoxo Natalie