December 4th, 2015
Dear Porn Star Girlfriend,
By the time you read this, I will be gone. I packed up my things and made amscray for the road. It’s over. No hard feelings.
We’ve had a pretty good run but I think our relationship has ran its course. I remember the first night we laid in bed together, cooling down from the hot lovemaking we’d just made. Giggly in the post-coital glow, the warm fuzzies taking over us and the endorphins high as the stars in the sky. Everything felt good and right with us, but I remember saying to you, “Girl, I don’t think I got enough dick to keep you happy.” It was like I saw the end, but all the way from the beginning.
It’s true. I don’t got enough dick to keep you happy. For real, I could have a second dick as well as a butt plug growing off of my elbow and it wouldn’t be enough. Because it’s not the size or quality of said dick but the variety that does it for you.
Can’t blame you, though. I knew what I was getting into. You are a porn star. Not just a porn performer. A star, which means you are famous for it. People recognize you on the street and geek out. You’re not just a porn actress, you are a shaman of cum. Or a shamaness. You’re a witch that conjures cum out of many lonely people through the medium of streaming video and for that you should be honored.
It was exciting at first when we’d be out in public and guys (always guys) stopped in their tracks to gawk at you. Many of them approached you. They all said they were big fans and loved your work. Then they would look at me and give me a double thumbs-up. They envied me. Hell, I would too. I had the best girl in the whole wild world. Had the best girl.
Relationships are tough, no matter what you do for a living. Remember that day I called you while you were on the set to tell you my sister’s ventilator was being shut off. What a horrible day. My sister had been in a coma for months. No sign of improvement. Technically brain dead. We were keeping her body warm because. . . we couldn’t let her go? But she was gone, and it was time to accept it. I called you with tears in my eyes and you tried to reassure me. You did your level best to try to make me feel better. It was her time, you said, and we were doing the right thing. You told me you loved me and were proud of me. I sobbed like a baby. You stayed on the line with me through all my tears.
When we hung up, you went to work and got Blacked dot com.
When we first started dating, I thought it would be a nonstop party. Nothing but fun and craziness and lots of group sex with all of your female co-workers and none of my male friends. It didn’t quite work out that way, but that’s not why I’m leaving, believe it or not.
I’ve learned about myself so much since we’ve started dating and I have you to thank for that. I’ve been forced to take a look inside myself. I’ve had to reexamine what I thought was right and good and that would not have been possible without your love and support.
When I said I hoped we’d party and have crazy group sex where I was the only guy in the room, that was only the first half of the fantasy. I had hoped that one day we’d both just settle down together. Just you and me. And occasionally Kayden. But you are like a wild horse. You cannot be broken or tamed and what’s more? You shouldn’t be broken or tamed. Not by me, at least. Not by any man. When you finally decide to settle, you will do it when you are good and ready. No one is bringing you down, nor should they.
But me? I’ve had my taste of the wild life. And Kayden. And Gianna. And Zoe. And Kayden. And Mia, Pia and Zia. Not to mention Kayden. But I can’t keep up with you. I don’t just not have enough dick for you, baby. I don’t have enough heart and soul for you. Or physical endurance and flexibility. I think I’ve been a closet monogamist this whole time. How utterly pedestrian and banal, right? Well, one day you may end up feeling that way too. The guy you’re with when that happens will be one lucky s.o.b.
But alas, it is not me. So I’m leaving. Because this is your condo. I had the Dish transferred over to your name, btw. Sorry I didn’t pull my weight with the bills more.