So... I told you about Eduardo...
Roommate G's co-worker who is having a housewarming warming party next Friday in Alexandria.
I responded today during my lunch break.
And boy, oh boy, did I respond :)
In true Ashley fashion, I blew his mind--it's just what I do ;)
I have a feeling the next email chain he writes, Eduardo won't forget to include me.
He actually might, just so he can get another response.
(Apparently Roommate G could hear Eduardo laughing in his cubicle from across the office.
I've got skillzzzzzzz)
The quoted parts are just quotes. The BOLD words are the original quotes... the normal font is all me.
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My Beloved Eduardo,
There are no original words that I can convey to you that can even come close to encompassing both the carnal desire to be near you that radiates throughout my being, and the overall appreciation that I feel from being lucky enough to be one of the guests in attendance at your Apartment Warming Gala next Friday.
Because I have been rendered speechless by this unquenchable need for you that is coursing steadily through my veins, I have enlisted the aid of others, who like me, have felt these feelings before, but who, unlike me, are strong enough to break through the barricade of emotions and put onto paper with pen, or in this case, onto email, with trusted fingers, the words that are appropriately expressive of how they truly feel.
Without further ado, I present to thee, Eduardo, my beloved, the confessions of other people's souls and hearts, but with my edits that truly give proper tongue to the core of my very being:
"Hey! I love really like being near you. I said it. Remember that time I was looking at you intently? You might not have seen me doing this, but I was, that first night in my little blue Ford Escort. I thought you saw me gazing longingly into your eyes, and with your big beautiful eyes, I thought You accused me of judging you. That wasn't it at all. I was feasting on you. Is this Worse? I think not. Does it Sounds like cannibalism? I think so. Scratch that. I know so. It was. It has been so long since that first night. I want to call you, but I feel so uncomfortable around you. You have a aura around you; you're so full of self confidence and sexiness... it just oozes out of you--like a pheromone on crack, and not the pricey powder form that the yuppies like; no, the broken down, laced with Heroine and Meth kind. That good, sweet shit that they sell in the dark alleys of East Baltimore. I just can't get enough of you. Have other people said this to you? Or Is it just me? I'm aching for your conversation tonight next Friday, but I'll just hold out until the babies drunken party guests are asleep, and then slip into another awkward dream of that first night we spent together melding into you as I sleep next to my beloved husband painfully jealous roommates - whom I will never tell this fantasy, and who can never begin to understand the connection that you and I share. Sometimes I just wish for the freedom to lie stand next to you and sense whether the pull that I have for you is reciprocated we have a pull or not, instead of sensing only the necessary limitations that I feel from being forced to live so very far from you."
"There is Something you should know about me: I don't know, anymore, my east and north, left or right, thissa-way or thatta-way. The map of you and I, the hardest one to decipher, reads like a cryptograph or a Where's Waldo page, where the only key or compass is the dark hole of missing you, and Waldo, because I miss him dearly when I take longer than 2.46 minutes to find him. It appears that we are far, getting farther even, bound by spatial distance, but it feels, in the part of me that is gauged by wanting, and not logic of any kind, (because we know how blonde I am--logic is a bit difficult at times), like the two cities of Baltimore and Alexandria that we live in are slowly moving closer together. I know this dream to be illogical, unless of course we have another earthquake, and the space between you and I falls into a crevice of the earth. Then you and I would no longer be separated by buildings, roads, and crack addicts, but instead by a huge gaping hole in the ground. If this were the case, then all we would have to do is stretch out our arms and reach toward one another."
"Dear Mom,
However, because I hurt my arm, and I know how am very sorry you are that you I hurt my your arm I cannot reach out to you as I would hope to.... I have hid some chocolate eggs in your room. If you have not gotten them please wait until we are all there. I should probably get back on point, and get off this tangent that I have jumped on... I now want to make a promise to you Eduardo: I promise to go to your apartment in exactly one help you a lot this week. I hope your my arm gets better quickly (sorry, back on the tangent again). You are the best mom in the whole wide world city of Alexandria. Once again I hope your arm gets better soon (shit! Tangent again!!). Even if something goes wrong between today, and the 6 other days that are between this Friday and the next one--not counting that Friday or this one, because then that would be 8 days-- (even though nothing will go wrong) I will be at your Apartment Warming Gala, with or without my hurt left right arm, unless until I die; then I really won't be able to make it on Friday. :) You are the best mom man and I would never trade you for any one else; well maybe for a reallllly sweeexxyyy dude. I love really like you with all my heart. I am so sorry you promise not to hurt your my arm or die between now and Friday, or actually I promise not to do either one of those for a really long time... I don't want to get hurt again, and I really don't want to die anytime soon. That would just suck. and well, I hope it my arm just gets better (shit!! Tangent AGAIN!).
Love,""
It is with strong conviction that I end this letter. I would say that I await your reply, but no response is necessary, unless of course you find that the desire to speak to me becomes too strong, then please, feel free to call me, to text me, email me, or send me a carrier pigeon. Whichever is easiest for you.
--Ashley Miriam Crowl
p.s. If you want to refer to the originals -- (some of which are pretty fucking hilarious) -- here you go: http://collectiveexperience.
I used: "Sounds Like Cannibalism," "The Map of You and I," and "I Will Be Your Left Arm Until I Die."
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Who's the master now!?
Hahahahhahaha Suck it Eduardo! ;)
Oh and yes. He responded...
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