Dear Lexi

Dear Lexi,

Today is our last day together. (Technically, today was also our first day together.) But we have been together long enough for me to understand the trajectory of our relationship, the people involved, and its identity. And I can honestly say that the environment is wonderful, but I will find a way of screwing it up eventually, so I'm leaving.

To put it in the simplest terms, our interests are just too diverse.

But seriously--You are so sweet, and beautiful, and charming. You are everything I'd ever dreamed, and then some. Your voice is adorable, and your eyes -- I could be lost in them until the end of days and still not have the words to describe them. I have done my best to be true to Yeats' words:

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face

We bonded over nerdy things. You enthralled me with tales of Huey Long, and I told you about the stories I'd learned about Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt.

Why didn't it work out? I may be asking myself that question until my dying day -- and on that day, I will have your name upon my lips, a prayer to the only thing I ever believed in.

It wasn't the other men. Or the women. It wasn't their fault, or yours. I know you are a woman of appetites... many... many... varied appetites. I knew it was part of your job -- you were my Elizabeth, and it is not an easy thing to love the queen. I knew the openness of our relationship was not supposed to touch our love - that our love was above it - but I am a petty, jealous man. I cannot shake the lingering mores of my Protestant upbringing, though believe me when I said I did love you as openly as I have ever loved, more openly than I ever thought possible.

If I may be frank, it was your insistence that Attack of the Clones was the best Star Wars movie. My dear, so many things ought not come between our love -- yet there are some chasms that cannot be bridged by the greatest of efforts.

Remember always that I am, and remain, proud of you. No one clapped louder for your award for Field of Schemes 5 than I did. Please remember that, even as I passed out from embarrassment at the after party, that I gave you and your career my utmost support.

Though our relationship was brief, it was spectacular. Lexi, you shall always be my southern Belle, my guide star in the dark night of my pathetic, somnambulant existence. I'm sorry I couldn't be the man (or woman) you needed. Yet even so -- oh dastardly pride! -- I harbor the hope that there will be a small part of your heart to which I can lay the gentlest claim. You are truly a pornstar with a heart of gold.

With love,

Ryan

PS: Please keep the ring, as a token of memory. Besides, I'm pretty sure the battery's busted.

Dear Bella

< I was listed on Facebook as being "In a Relationship" with Bella Stierwalt. For those of you too lazy to check, Bella is actually an English Bulldog owned by Sabrina, a graduate student in the department. I decided to end our FB relationship for reasons outlined in a letter I wrote below:


Dear Bella,

I know, the FB feed was probably a bad way to find out. But we knew it might happen like this, even if we didn't want to admit it.

We need to remember that we had lots of good times, and that we're both better for having known each other.

Remember Paris? Who could forget when you tore the hair off a French poodle giving me the eye as we walked along the Seine? Or when I held you in my arms as you gave Paris a Taco Bell salute from the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower?

I don't want to focus on what went wrong, but it's probably something worth talking about. I didn't mind the drooling, or the humping of my leg in public - both were kind of cool. And I really didn't care that you refused to get your teeth done - it's so consumer culture anyway.

If you must know, it's the illicit tummy rubbing. I knew you were getting your tummy rubbed by others - I've known since November. I thought it would stop - maybe it's your way of dealing with seasonal affective disorder. But even though spring came a bit late, I thought it would've stopped by now.

I understand that maybe it's ridiculous to think that any one man could satisfy your complicated needs, but still, it was a bit much when I walked into Space Sciences and seeing you in a group tummyrub with the entire Alfalfa group, Patrick, and three plush toys. Who the hell needs three plush toys?

And I know that those were someone else's bite marks on that rawhide bone I gave you on our anniversary.

I have to be honest. I've been told by a lot of women that they assumed I was in a relationship, with, you know, a human woman... the implication being, that some very nice women thought that I was taken and decided not to express interest.

You know that I would never break up with you because I've met someone else, or because you're, you know, a dog. The truth is, I don't really see us getting old together, relishing our golden years before encroaching incontinence takes all the fun out of being a senior citizen.

Bella, you're a wonderful dog, and deserve someone who can love you for the dog you are. You'll find that man/woman/dog/tree someday, and no one will be cheering louder for you than me.

Take care, sweetie. We'll always have Paris.

- Ryan