Emeebee, You Were Right
Hi [Emeebee].
It’s been eight years since we talked last, and fifteen years since our last night in bed together. I miss you. Those times were electric, and I’ve not experienced any dates since that topped yours and my passionate hours as we lay in each other’s arms, kissing, exploring, and basking.
If I could do it over, the one thing I’d do differently is this: I wouldn’t push you so hard for a you-date-only-me arrangement. In fact, I wouldn’t push you at all. Though I did not appreciate it at the time, we had a most pleasing affair, just as it was; one that I would learn in the years since, would be most difficult to replace. Laying with you, holding your hand, kissing your arms, giving you foot rubs, marveling at how perfectly shaped your legs were and how sultry your voice was; these were (and are) the things I really wanted. Nothing more, and nothing less.
But I argued for more; too much more. You remember. I wanted you to stop going out looking for other men, and to see me exclusively.
I never understood why you wanted to date around, and I hated it. After all, I didn’t want to date around on you, and the fact that you wanted to on me made you seem smutty. Besides, you were beautiful and so I knew that if you did go hunting, that you’d surely come back holding some other man’s hand. I just couldn’t face that possibility, and thus fought to stop it at all costs. Losing you was one big cost I hadn’t anticipated, and I still feel that loss today.
I was 33 years old and you were 40. Maybe this is something that people don’t really understand until they hit their 40s. I didn’t get it until I hit 43. But at 33, I was idealistic, and I truly believed that what I needed in my life to at last drive away loneliness for good, was the undying love of one single woman. I thought I needed nothing else, and so I wanted you to take up this role.
But I get now why you avoided it, I think. You see, today, I’m the one asking my girlfriend for what you asked of me in 1994. That is: I want to date around now, just as you did. Regretfully, I couldn’t give you that then. Instead, all you got from me was bitterness and anger without an ounce of understanding and support. But I must say that [Emmy] is handling my request much better than I handled yours, and she’s only 25 years old. So I guess I was a bit childish. [Emmy] is more mature about this at 25 than I was at 33. Indeed, she has agreed to let me play with other women with her blessing, and she’ll continue dating me too. She doesn’t like the idea, to be sure. But she understands that I must do this so I can really figure out which parts of my life-long fantasies are worth pursuing, and which I should can because they’re wrong.
I was juvenile with you. I just didn’t understand when you and I were hanging out that possessing you as I was would surely drive you away. I didn’t want to understand either, because I was so afraid of losing you. You were just so special. I’d never been with someone as tall, thin, gorgeous, and intelligent as you. So I did whatever I could to assure that you wouldn’t be whisked away by another. I held on to you so tightly in fact, that you slipped through my fingers. Sadly, I made happen the very thing I tried with all my heart to prevent; you left, never again to return.
We had our problems, and I admit with hat in hand to causing most of them. My relentless insistence on commitment was by far our biggest issue. Was it not? My righteousness poisoned our every conversation eventually, and I am so, so sorry for that. This one bone of contention probably triggered all the others, and through it all, we grew some pretty bad feelings toward each other, didn’t we.
Maybe these slights are too deep to reverse, even today. But you appear sometimes in my daydreams, as alluring as ever, and I find myself regretting that we have no contact at present, physical or otherwise. If I’d been more understanding we might have spent many more hours tickling and caressing each other than we did. I get now that time in bed with you was far more valuable than your promise of a forever after. I’m sorry I didn’t see that back then and I’m mystified today over why I wanted your promise of fidelity so much, and why I could not enjoy you without it.
I miss our good times, and I want some of them back. How about you? Would you forgive me? Would you play with me again? I promise. I’d never ask you to stop seeing other men. I would enjoy you without possessing you, and you need not play with me every day either. Once every year or two or five would be fine if that’s all you could manage. I’d be happy with whatever you’d want to offer, and I’d be dating around as well.
So if any of this resonates, you know what to do.
Take care,
Tom Hesley
