Tutor Girl, how's this going to work?

Readers, before you read this you’ll need the whole story. Read here. Except you Tutor Girl, I assume you know it.

You seemed okay at first. You were a regular reader. I even gave you your own post. I even sent you flowers in that post. I thought we had a pretty good relationship going—you reading this blog, me seeing increased numbers in my site statistics; which is a bigger boost in my morale than you’ll ever know.

And then you go and do this (here, have your knife back, from my back). You go around me and get my partner-in-crime all hearts-in-the-eyes. I’ll have you know he balances this blog out—me, the married guy, and him, the bachelor that stays out ‘till all hours of the morning drinking.

I just don’t know how this is going to work. Ronsie and I share the kind of love that only seriously committed hetero-colleagues can share. And now you’ve come in to the picture, stolen him from behind my back, and left me here, all alone to fend for myself. HOMEWRECKER!

Sure, Ronsie says things won’t change. “Things won’t change.” That’s what the boy in Shilo said to his dog after he spent his childhood with him and then up-and-left for college. You know what happened next in that story? Shilo died! Yep, the boy left home for bigger and better things and then his best friend the dog died. (BTW, I have a beagle at home with my Mom, which really drives this story to the heart).

Ronsie says things won’t change. Sure, at first. Things will be normal for the first few days. Then it’ll start with him going a few days between blog posts. Then weeks. Then he’ll stop posting all together. Then he’ll stop going to lunch with me. Then he’ll start making up excuses for not going to cheese steaks with me because he “has to run downtown to drop something off.” I’ll have to find someone new to start blogging with, but it won’t be the same. Site statistics will fall, as will my morale. I’ll eventually quit blogging and just be a crotchety old man in his office. I’ll swear off new media completely.

Ronsie, I already miss you. We need you. Hell, I need you. I'm a mess without you. I miss you so damn much. I miss being with you, I miss being near you. I miss your laugh. I miss your scent; I miss your musk. When this all gets sorted out, I think you and me should get an apartment together!

But, I guess the only way you can love something is if you love it enough to let it fly away from home. Tutor Girl, don’t you dare break his heart.