Dear Column,
This is definitely the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write to a column I write. We need to talk.
Lately, it’s seemed like we still love each other, but just aren’t “in love” anymore. First and foremost, let me make it clear that there isn’t another column involved. I couldn’t do that to you. Besides, you know too many of my secrets, which I’ve fed you over the years. You’ve provided the perfect sounding board for a malcontented spaz like myself. Manic depression, cats, death, rock bands, unemployment, hypochondria: There was nothing I couldn’t talk to you about.
Maybe I took you for granted, sometimes not actually picking up a copy for several days to see how you “turned out.” For that I am sorry. I’ll never forget the sometimes several minutes we spent together each month, usually an hour before deadline. Was our time together brief? Yes. But know that you were on my mind every day. I’ll only speak sweetly of you, and if we get lonely and want to trip down memory lane, we’ll always have online archiving.
“If you love someone, set them free.”
You, of all columns, know how hard that was for me to write. As you are well aware, I hate Sting.
Mary sez: Good bye.
Email Mary at popularcreeps@yahoo.com.
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