I had a dream last night. As usual I don’t really remember it. I was thinking about you last night, writing another letter. It is probably what brought about the dream. I do know the dream really bothered me. Like this morning, it seems I remember more about what happened and things you said to me. For some reason, is in the morning when things are clear.
You told me many times that you love sex on clean sheets. Even on the day when you came over, the day we broke up, you brought your sheets up and were genuinely mad that I did not come over and fuck you every time you changed your sheets. Why would you be mad at such a thing?
This morning I was thinking about that. I remember thinking about that during our relationship too. I was thinking about when you washed your sheets. As a guy I know I don’t wash mine enough. In general women do seem to wash their sheets more often. This is taking in account that both the men and woman are single. I was thinking about your sheet washing schedule. I thought that you never washed them on a specific day or at specific interval. When I would spend the night and look down at your bed before getting in I remember noticing all the stains on your sheets. I did not know if they were new or old stains. I did not know if they were fresh from the night before or made long ago. I do know however, you and I did not cause them. It would come to my mind the question of how many men have you had sex with on your bed and on those sheets. It would come to mind who was the man that you were with when the different stains were made. I would get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I though how you liked to have sex with me on clean sheets because the dirty sheets were recently made dirty by you and someone else. It made me think that it was like a new start for you somehow, more manipulation of yourself furthering your own delusions, hiding your infidelities. I always felt like you were having sex with other men when you were supposed to mine alone. I don’t know why, but it was always there, in my gut, tearing me apart. It was draining. This was probably the reason I did not like spending the night at your house, or even being at your house. There were too many ghosts of your boyfriends and lovers past. It was all those stains on your sheets. You had sex with Mark, Terry, Francis, the boat guy, and me on that bed, at least that’s the ones I know about, the ones you told me about. I wondered how many more there were? I wondered how many more men were invited into your house for the very reason to make more stains on your sheets. I only had sex with my wife and you on my bed. All the stains on the new mattress pad are from you and me. I have to change that now, so I can start new. I need to start new. I don’t want any stains on my sheets.
I told you about this once and you responded that I was being immature. No, I am not immature at all. I just realized the truth about you and female promiscuity long ago. I realized in my heart, that when I start to fall in love with a woman, the thoughts of her many past boyfriends and lovers do in fact bother me, they haunt me somehow. This issue gives me pause, when I think if a woman is deserving of my love and commitment. It makes me want to find a woman who was not so promiscuous, who has less stains on her sheets. This issue came up when you were trying so desperately to convince me to move in with you. You knew deep down why your bed bothered me, it was not the dog, it was the stains on your sheets. I always knew that you did not care about my feelings about that issue or any other issue really, but you did try to manipulate me to accept all of your bad behaviors, telling me I should never worry about the stains on your sheets. You tried to make me believe you had changed, that you would behave with me. Maybe that is when you decided that we needed a new house together. Maybe you thought that in a new house your past lovers would not haunt me or torment you so much. Maybe you thought that you could change who you really are with me, but we know the truth, don’t we? I knew we would keep your bed, and we would keep your mattress and the sheets with all the stains on them, so the ghosts would always be there, forever, with us and between us.