From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Saturday, May 22nd, 1999 6:27 AM
Subject: RE RE So sorry
Stacey, what a harsh email.
I’m not quite sure how to respond. I feel kinda betrayed. I mean not betrayed in a Gangster or Tudor King battle-for- the-Crown kinda way.
I just feel hurt.
I feel raw.
I feel unprotected.
I feel the world got a little darker.
I feel like a child.
I feel I want to be looked after.
And I know I should look after myself. I know that.
I know that when it all comes down to it, we only have ourselves.
I know I’m an adult.
But sometime don’t you want someone to hold your hand?
Someone to check your temperature.
Someone to ring you on your birthday.
Someone to buy you a book.
Someone to write a dated personal inscription in that book.
Someone to share a piece of toast with.
Someone to gently correct the song lyric when you sing it incorrectly. (I’m talking about Warren Zevon’s Werewolves of London which I thought was Werewolves Abundant for a good three months)
Someone who won’t ever wear a matching track suit with you.
Someone who will read the Saturday papers with you.
Someone who will steal your pillow.
Someone that will cut off the fat before making you a bacon sandwich.
Someone who will laugh at your jokes even when they’ve heard them before?
Someone who’ll not laugh at you even when you’re foolish again.
Someone to say the odd there-there
Someone that will cut off the fat before making you a bacon sandwich. (I said that already, didn’t I? I think I really want a bacon sandwich.)
Someone who’ll tell you ‘actually it is a bad haircut.’
Someone who’ll tell you ‘actually that colour doesn’t suit you.’
Some who’ll tell you ‘actually leather doesn’t suit you.’
Someone who’ll tell you ‘though I support the idea of complete corduroy outfit, I think when it comes to the waistcoat you should reconsider.’
Someone who has enough regard to lie to you?
Someone who’s willing to leave out some of the details.