Dear cowboy,
I thought about you and your family today. I remember you talking to your son on the phone with me in the other room. He told you he got a new toy truck. I was naked waiting to shower with you.
I remember when you told me you were divorced and I remember believing you.
I remember learning from my father that it was a lie, when he saw your daughter's birth announcement on ESPN. There was a nice picture of you and your wife I imagine.
I remember your drunk dials. I remember you telling me there was a woman with you in your hotel room and I remember wondering whether you were kidding.
I remember the last time I saw you.
I remember when you called me a year ago and I remember telling you I had found someone else.
I forget what your skin feels like.
I forget your pillow talk.
I forget the butterflies.
Love,
Jayne
