The Love Letters: A Novella
Page 10
You deserve it, ma femme. Enjoy your trip! Do that thing where you pretend I’m there – I want all the details.
I love you.
Z
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Hello?
Molly said you got back a few days ago and haven’t been to work. What gives?
Z
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: ?
What happened in Miami? I’m not an idiot.
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: I’m sorry
Zach,
I’m the idiot.
March 24, 2003
Ma femme,
There is absolutely nothing you can do to make me love you less. If you accidentally toss out my autographed Don Mattingly rookie card, I would be fucking pissed, but I will never stop loving you.
You’re human, Natalie. You have a spirit that can’t be caged.
No regrets and no expectations – that’s why we work.
Zach
March 31, 2003
Zach,
I did what you wanted. I brought you with me to Miami. We’re both to blame.
I pretended you were with me – unpacking my suitcase, taking a long shower, and then ordering desserts from the room service menu. But it wasn’t real.
And then I met Alex.
He was the one to tell me dirty jokes. He was the one to quote my favourite movies. He complimented my new dress. He was the one who flirted with me. He was the one I fucked in my hotel suite.
Why? Because he was real, and he was there.
I told you I couldn’t do this! I’m selfish and immature, and I’m not great at relationships. I can’t do this, Zach – I can’t function on the other side of the world with an invisible boyfriend. I can’t live with hypotheticals. I can’t pine for a ghost. I can’t survive without my prince.
La vie est un interlude au salut? Then why the fuck do you love me?
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Alex sounds like a dick
I love you because . . .
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: Alex was a dick
Because why?
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Alex quoted movies? Douche
Parce que tu es mon salut.
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: Mostly Dumb and Dumber
Et tu es mon prince.
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: He only fucked you once?
Tu es partout.
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: Barely. Pencil pecker.
Tu es tout.
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Oral?
Messenger. Now.
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: As if.
Let me grab my vibrator.
April 23, 2003
Ma femme,
Thank you for the package – I’m pretty sure the Hot Pockets are inedible, but the Oreos and Twizzlers will be devoured before midnight.
Guess what? Camp Hammond has a movie theater! Granted, it’s a remodeled shipping container with thirty folding chairs and a screen the size of a white board, but it’s something to do on a Saturday night. Fisher and I have a date to see the moving pictures – tell me, if I let him buy the popcorn, do I have to put out?
We need to discuss your birthday. At exactly 11 a.m., 5-3-03, you need to be in the apartment. Don’t go for bagels. Don’t oversleep. This is an order.
Hey, take a trip to Bryant Park and see the tulips – life will make sense.
Zach
April 30, 2003
Zacharie,
A movie theater! Camp Hammond is what we like to call in the PR biz, a trendsetter. Soon, the Navy will have an arcade room with pinball machines on one of those giant ships. Oh, and a good rule to follow is: popcorn + large diet coke = fondling allowed during movie. I hope Fisher took it easy on you.
I followed your suggestion and went to Bryant Park yesterday. I bought a magazine and an iced latte, and then parked my ass at a little bistro table. It was amazing, Zach. How did you know I would love it?
Spring in New York City is a romance novel begging to be written. I guess I’ve always been too self-absorbed to notice. But I get it now – it’s color invading the gray period. Spring is a reminder that there’s hope.
Thank you for making me smile.
XO Nat
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Important *
Happy birthday! Answer the phone when it rings.
Zach
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: OMG
Zacharie,
I’m so fucking proud that my ADD didn’t kick in, leading me to wander down to Starbucks for my free birthday coffee at precisely the time you called. Holy shit! That was amazing. AMAZING! How is it possible that your voice is even sexier than the one in my dreams? And how do you do that thing where you make me feel sentimental and horny all in the same convo?
Whatever you did to get that satellite phone, it was totally worth it – even if we only had like 6.5 minutes to talk and most of that was static and “can you hear me?” I love you, Zach Parker. Thank you for giving me the best birthday present ever.
My plans . . . nothing major. Molly scored reservations at a trendy restaurant in Chelsea known for its caviar bar. Since it’s my birthday, I made an appointment to pamper myself at the salon with a massage and facial. And then I’ll stop by Betsey Johnson and buy the very sexy blue dress I’ve ogled in the window.
Don’t wait up, mon prince . . . caviar makes me crazy.
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: 6.5 Minutes
Mmm. I want to give you a massage and facial.
Have a great night, birthday girl.
Zach
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: Technology woes
Zacharie,
My typing fingers need a break. Concerned, Molly asked if arthritis ran in my family – little did she know that I was typing and masturbating non-stop for the entire weekend.
One week without Yahoo messenger. Doctor’s orders.
XO Nat
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: Is this a challenge?
Natalie,
Do you think I’m incapable of making you orgasm by only writing letters? Challenge accepted.
May 7, 2003
Seductress,
Your dirty mouth needs training. Follow my instructions precisely.
Immediately, you will research anything and everything you can find on deep-throating. After you’re comfortable with the various techniques, you will then take the largest dildo you own into the shower with you.
With your body relaxed and your pussy satisfied, you will then lie on the bed with your head extended over the edge. Close your eyes. Say my name. Open your mouth.
Relax.
Slowly insert the large silicone flesh, taking an inch, and then another. Allow your throat to respond to the burning sensation – fight to suppress the gag reflex. Pain can be extremely satisfying. Pain is liberating. Pain reminds us that we're alive.
You will cry. You will be sore. Your throat may sting for several days . . . but then you will try again. Within a few weeks, your throat will be conditioned to take in the thickest cock. You will be primed and c
onditioned.
What better way to reveal your trust and devotion than granting me complete control of your naughty mouth?
Z
May 15, 2003
Zach,
I’m ashamed to write that I was thoroughly confused by your last letter. Look, I enjoy some history. Mostly stuff from the ‘20s with pinstripe gangster suits and flapper dresses. And I’m not sure you know this, but Canadian history is more than just beaver hunting and hockey.
So I researched Nixon, Watergate, and the elusive Deep Throat. Are you Deep Throat? Wait . . . is your dad Deep Throat? That seems like something Raymond Parker would do. Personally, I think Deep Throat is someone no one would ever consider. I’m putting my money on Cher.
After I researched anything and everything on Deep Throat, I took a warm shower with my dildo. (side note – I hate the word dildo. I always think of the singer Dido. I prefer floppy dick.)
And then the phone rang.
Floppy dick in hand and dripping wet, I hurried out of the shower and dried off. Grabbing my fuzzy robe from the hook, I then went to the living room to find the cordless phone. It was wedged between two cushions along with a deck of Uno cards and a sleeve of Chips Ahoy. I missed the call. It was Chloe. I flipped on the television and called her back – holy shit, she wouldn’t shut up. Chloe went on and on about some band she watched perform in Toronto, and how she really wanted bangs. Seinfeld was on television – the one where they go to the Chinese restaurant and have to wait hours to eat. I made a peanut butter sandwich sans jelly. Cartwright! I watched another episode of Seinfeld – the one where George takes a nap under his desk. During the third episode of Seinfeld – the one with Elaine and Puddy and vegetable lasagna – I grabbed my notebook and a pen from the coffee table and made a To Do List. Chloe moves in next week and I need to hide all my sex toys, buy another set of dishes, get a key made, and build a clothes rack from Ikea.
So by the time I finally got in bed, the first attempt to shove a floppy dick down my throat was thwarted by sleep.
The next time you want me to do something kinky, don’t make me read boring articles about a presidential scandal forty years ago.
XOXO Nat
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
RE: She’s here!
Z,
Chloe is here! And just in time for Fleet Week.
XO Nat
To: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
From: cooter01@yahoo.com
RE: STD Week
Ah, yes. The one week when semen jokes are acceptable.
To: cooter01@yahoo.com
From: natalieL@MMeventsNYC.com
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 60th 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 k
id 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!
But whatever her reasons were for screwing a stranger on a yacht, she's no longer lost in the big city. Chloe's writing music again, and she even landed a weekly gig at the bar. I need to get her laid more often.
I love that you love my mind. And I love that you won't think I'm shallow when I admit that I love your cock.
XO Nat
July 25, 2003