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Sunday August 27th 2006, 8:45 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Love Letters

My Beloved,

Though you may not know, and in fact, thereís no way you would know, Iím very sexually deprived these days. I had a wet dream last night. I canít remember who or what the details entailed, but I do know that my body requires a release of my pent up sexual desires. I canít masturbate like most men I know as I feel pathetic and hopeless when I do pleasure myself, thus not allowing myself to ejaculate. In a way, I proscribe myself the ability to narcissistically indulge in my own body. For some strange reason, my consciousness can only allow another to please me sexually. However, I do believe I told you quite enough of this ďproblemĒ of mine, and therefore will discontinue discussing these intimate details. Itís Fatherís day today. Will you call your dad to tell him you love him? You’ve always had a strange relationship with that man; of course there was the history of his abuse and neglect. He was never around for you, and therefore you never had a father figure in your life to be a positive male role model. Fathers teach young daughters how to successfully find other positive male persons in the daughterís life. Your dad was rich, conservative, on drugs, would go from woman to woman, wife to wife, and allowed you, his twelve year old daughter to run away from home. He actually allowed you to go. That man is a disgusting example of what a good father should be. When I met you, you claimed to loathe the man. He would visit you in San Jose, not because he wanted to see you (or so you said) but because that was the location of his auto shops, and coincidentally, the place where you were living. However, as I began to better understand your need for his presence, even though he never really gave you much of anything in terms of love and fatherhood, I understood why you would want to meet him for lunch once a month, why you returned his phone calls with a ďhi Dad,Ē and even why you ended those calls with an ďI love you.Ē You want your dadís love so bad, you look for it in every man you meet. But to your surprise, all men disappoint you. You are conditioned to reach out for a male figure, but your open arms only know how to net in men who will someday continue the tradition of hurting you. You search for men who can not show you the love youíve always craved from your dad. Itís an obvious cycle, but a validated one, none the less. This psychosis of a missing father is almost textbook. Iíve been told by many people that with the shit youíve been through it would take multiple lifetimes of therapy to work out. I didnít want to believe this haunting statement because I had faith in your mental and psychological abilities. But now, in retrospect to whatís happened between you and I, I do believe you need help Ė help that your friends canít give you. You need professional help, as do I.

–your belover.

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