Dearest,

I have tried not to say so many negative things about asshole drivers that cut me off, or fail to signal. And I have been careful not to leave water, or beard trimmings around the bathroom sink.

I haven't said too much about this new computer game, or that new scientific theory. And I try not to rant about the historical significance in the similarities between this turn-of-the-century and the last.

I'll make sure not to interrupt you when telling a story about our boy, Or ignore you while my favorite TV show is on.

I'll be sure to comment on how great you look for just recently having had a baby, and for losing those fifty pounds so fast. But I won't stare at your tits, or drool all over you like some sex-crazed lunatic.

I haven't said too much about your crazy grandmother, or that bitch-of-a-sister you have. And I've tried to listen patiently to all the problems that my brother and his wife have caused, and all the things you should say to them when they start in again.

I haven't complained about the radio stations, or that annoying country music you love. I haven't even said too much about the sleeping arrangements. It's funny, I never knew how lonely sleeping with another person could feel.

It doesn't hurt too much now when you shy away from my touch. And if I have to masturbate for the rest of my life... So be it. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you from leaving, to keep you from taking your love away.

Or maybe I'm full of shit because I'm too tired to try very hard. And maybe this letter isn't very fair, but neither are you.

Love, Me

P.S. I thought love was supposed to be unconditional

[submitted 05/21/03]