Normally, as you may or may not know, the last column in one of my books is usually a recap of the last ninety-nine columns I have written – and a reflection of the life I have lived over the time I have written them. In this case, those ninety-nine columns have been a diary of my life from July 24, 2005 until today. In that twenty-six month period, I have done a lot. I have booked and missed a South Park Convention, gotten and lost a new job, seen a Billy Joel concert by myself, said goodbye to a few of my wrestling friends who died – and decided that this year, I will live long and prosper. But of all the things I have not done so far in 2007 – it is stop loving you…

…but now I think the time has finally – finally – come.

Believe it or not, I can actually hear your laughter right now, because I know very well that you have gotten over “us” (whatever that means) close to four years ago – but in all honesty, I have not. I can not tell you how many times I have gone on dates since the last time I saw you – wonderful, romantic dates – said goodbye to the lady I went out with – and spent the rest of the evening crying because I was looking at pictures of you. I can’t even fathom the times I would get a call on my cell phone and pray that it was you. You have no idea how many times I see a woman on the street or in the subway that could be your twin (or at least in my mind they are) and wish it was actually you – and not I, but you have no idea how many songs in the world’s library remind me of you – to the point where I cannot hear them without crying…

…well not anymore.

I made this letter public because I want the world to know exactly why it is that I feel this way – and it is because of your actions. During the course of the last few years – the last year being the most prominent – there have been nights where you have cried your eyes out to me telling me how much you love me – almost to the point where you threw up. There have been times when you have confessed to me on the phone how sure you were that no other man would ever treat you better than I would – and there were nights where you promised me your soul – and swore that you wanted nothing more than to see me again and, based on that reunion – see if “us” (whatever that means) can try again. Remember, these are your words…

…and then, when I would call you (I reiterate, call you) a few days later – you would act as if we were friends the whole time we knew each other – and nothing more.

If memory (and every single thing you have ever sent me that I saved) serves, you once said, in a hand-written letter you sent me dated December 12, 2002 (yes, I still have it), “I know I told you this before, but having you in my life completes my soul. I know that if I could spend the rest of my life with you and be the happiest woman to have ever graced this planet I know you would keep asking me why I feel that way and I have tons of reasons.” And then, in an e-mail dated September 5, 2003 (yeah, I have that too), one month before you (that’s you) decided to move here to Brooklyn, you wrote, “I can’t wait until we make dinners together, do laundry together and fall asleep together. There are so many things that I can’t wait to do with you, but I am glad you are giving me a lifetime with you to do all of them.”

And I also can’t (and never will) forget the e-mail you sent me on November 10, 2003 that read, “I have just realized that I can’t do it. I can’t move Paul. I love you, but I can’t do it. I know if I go there, I’ll be gone within a matter of weeks to months. The truth is that even though I think the world of you and I love so much about you, I know I don’t feel about you the way I should and to be honest I have been questioning it since Chicago.” We took that trip in April – eight months before this e-mail – and six months before you sent me the aforementioned September e-mail. And while we are on that subject – an e-mail? That’s how you say goodbye on November 10, 2003 to a guy who expected you to move up here on November 14, 2003?

Again, I would have (at least tried) to let this go years ago, as you have so easily done – but over the last year – you have indicated to me that you still love me and think that no one else could treat you as I do…

…well my dear, considering the fact that I have not heard from you in the last month – you have a heck of a way of showing it.

I was speaking with my friend Lisa about you recently as she made me realize that I am “coffee girl.” To clarify, she knew a girl who met a man for coffee one day on a “first date.” They had coffee, talked, and he left a half-hour later and never saw or spoke to her again. Yet, a year-and-a-half after that meeting, the girl asked Lisa when she thought her and the guy would get married and have children – even though the guy never contacted her again.

Lisa is right – I am “coffee girl” – well no more.

I am not going to sit here and write bad things about you. In fact, I wish you well. I also know that just because one person has certain feelings for someone does not necessarily mean that the other person feels that way too. I just wish that you wouldn’t have flip-flopped on your feelings towards me so much as of late. I also wish that you would have not, as the old cliché goes, “told me everything I wanted to hear,” but you did. And lastly, I wish, In June of 2002, I didn’t hear, “Hi, I’m Mary” and turned around and saw the girl I wanted my entire life – only to realize that there is truth in the saying, “you don’t know what you’ve got until its gone.”

Mary, take care of yourself. Be happy. Live life to the fullest and become the absolute best person that you can be – but please know that you will do it without me. You recently asked me if we could always be in touch no matter what – and I said yes – well now I say no. If you call me, I will not answer. I you e-mail me, I will not respond. All I can do is not say anything bad about you (which I feel I have not done in this open letter) and just hope that you are doing well and think about you from time to time. But in closing, I will do this, I will wish you happiness, health, success – and, even though it is without me – true love. You are a good person and deserve to find, as you once put it when I asked you why you set up an E-Harmony profile despite the fact that you know how much I loved you, “your soul-mate.”

Good luck. God speed. God Bless. Goodbye.

Have a good life.