The Love Letters: A Novella (15 page)

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: She’s here!

Z,

Chloe is here! And just in time for Fleet Week.

XO Nat

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: STD Week

Ah, yes. The one week when semen jokes are acceptable.

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
RE: Jealous?

I heart you, Zach Parker.

May 21, 2003

Zach,

I love having Chloe here! Granted she has more shoes than I planned for, and she sings entire musicals in the shower, but we’re having the best time.

Last night, we went for drinks in the Village and then to Dunbar’s for open-mic night. Chloe was amazing as usual, but guess who else got on the stage and rocked Alanis Morissette? And guess who won a coupon for a free foot-long sandwich from Subway? That’s right, I plan to eat that turkey footie while basking in the glory of my triumphant fifth-place win. (Chloe won first-place and $500.)

From there we headed to cigar bar near Houston. Molly told me about the place and its reputation for being a pit stop for wealthy, single men. (All for Chloe, mon prince.) I guess I was expecting to see Gordon Gekko in an Armani suit, but the actual douchebags of Wall Street are nothing like the ‘80s stereotype. The place reeked of cologne and psychotic pheromones – Chloe nearly gagged. I did meet a guy with a great personality nursing an expensive bottle of Scotch. Easily could’ve used up my monthly extracurricular points with him . . . until he offered me five-thousand dollars for a golden shower.

Giving up on the male population of NYC, Chloe and I headed home after a quick stop at Subway.

(cheese alert)

No man can compete with you, Zach Parker. You’ll always be first-place.

Come home to me – I need to be fucked.

XO Nat

May 30, 2003

Natalie,

I’m back in Tora Bora. FUCKING SHIT.

I didn’t have time to email you. FUCKING FUCKERS.

I’m not on the list for July furlough. FUCKERS FUCKED ME.

I won’t be home until December.

Cheer me up, ma femme. Life is pretty shitty right now.

Zach

PS Stay the fuck away from cigar bars.

June 6, 2003

My valiant warrior,

I won’t lie. I hate every minute of our separation. I hate that I can’t touch you. I hate that I can’t experience things with you. I hate that you have to eat tofu. I hate that I drink too much. I hate that I curse too much. I hate that I need so much. I hate that I cry all the time. I hate that this is our love story.

It’s not fair.

But it’s all we have.

And I fucking LOVE what we have.

xoxoxoxoxxxooxoxxxx

Natalie

June 15, 2003

Ma femme,

Have I told you that . . .

I love your passion. I love your vulgar mouth. I love your subtle strength. I love your tenacious spirit.

I love your waves of golden hair. I love your perfect breasts. I love your infectious smile. I love your little leaf tattoo.

I love watching you sleep. I love watching you on top. I love watching you come.

You’re right. It’s fucking unfair we can’t have the things we love. But it’s all we have, ma femme – transcendent consumption.

Forever and always, I’ll be the goof at your side, thanking God for my taste of salvation.

xx Zach

June 22, 2003

Zacharie,

No more melancholy! The past month has sucked royally, but if we keep us this pathetic letter exchange, we’ll officially become the sorriest set of lovers since Tristan and Isolde.

I don’t want to look back on these months as gray.
Oublie la tristesse. Souviens-toi de nous. Our love story is full of color.

Guess what? Molly offered me her house on Fire Island for the Fourth! I plan to surprise Chloe with a birthday trip – she needs a little fun. I know she loves living in NYC, but I’m not sure she’s found her groove. Her job at the bar is slightly lame (don’t tell her I said that) and she doesn’t really make herself available for new relationships. It’s like she’s waiting for something . . . or someone. Fire Island will be the perfect remedy.

How are Gumby and Joey Darts? What’s the weather like? As I’m sure you know, June in NYC is absofuckinglutely phenomenal. I walk everywhere, and I try to eat outside a few times a week. I’m enjoying life, Zach. And it feels good to notice life happening in real time all around me. Although, I have to go to Greenwich this weekend for Dad’s 60
^th
birthday party, so life around me will take a serious nosedive back to suckage.

We’re okay, mon prince. This will all be okay – and before you know it, we’ll be raising our beach babies in a bungalow in Hawaii.

Love always and forever,

Nat

July 5, 2003

Natalie,

Color. 

I like that comparison. Maybe that's what you felt during your visit to the Met. We're Impressionist lovers that belong in the same gallery. We’re from the same palette.

No more gray – my solemn promise.

Fire Island on the Fourth? Did sweet, innocent Chloe survive? I want a story. And I'm not threatened by any guy vacationing on that island, so tell me your dirty secrets.

Tora Bora is growing on me. There are some mornings when the sun hits the grassy fields so perfectly, that I actually forget I'm in the Middle East. 

Joey Darts is an idiot. He had a bad case of jock itch last week in case you were wondering. My jock is in tip-top shape, in case you were wondering. 

Gumby isn't a kid anymore (pun intended, yet lame.) I cornered him at base and gave him a beard trim – he needs to find himself a nice goat honey – and it wasn't going to happen with his stanky beard and gnarly hooves. I'm proud of the son of a bitch – he's a good goat.

An oldie but a goodie . . . Natalie-body-part-of-the-day!

Your mind.

Quite frankly, it's the sexiest thing about you. It's very rare that two people can connect mentally and physically and still have great sex. You're the complete package, ma femme. Smart, witty, creative, and charming. Your body may get a lot of attention, but your mind belongs to me.

xx Zach

July 15, 2003

Lover,

Why did you never warn me about Fire Island? Or better yet, how does Molly spend her summer weekends in that hedonism? CRAZY!

Molly's little cottage was so adorable, and the beach was perfectly pristine. There were even deer frolicking among the sand dunes. But when the sun set, OH MY FUCKING GOD! 

First, Chloe and I got mixed up with some flirty swingers and two uber hot gay guys. Then we made our way to the dock for an Independence party. You know the rave scenes in Trainspotting when Renton and Sick Boy are super high and things are moving at electro-speed? Okay, multiply that times ten – add in some drag queens and George Washingtons, a sex club, and some fireworks, and that will only cover 1/10 of what I saw and experienced. 

I won't bore you with fun times with the Decker twins – I assure you they were a huge disappointment. A little fondling and some champagne, but nothing more.

Dear sweet, innocent Chloe, tsk, tsk. That crazy bohemian had a night that would shock Mae West. Like, what's the naughtiest thing she could do on Fire Island? I know! Have boat sex with a stranger! And the best part? She didn't know his name!