An Open Letter to Mercer University School of Medicine

Dear Mercer University School of Medicine,

What's up? Thought I drop you a line because it's been a while since I've heard from you. I hope all is well and that the new campus is coming along. Growing pains are tough, aren't they? Anyway, I know you'll get through it and be successful. If anyone can do it, it's you.

So, hey, I was wondering if you'd had some trouble getting in touch with me. I was out of town a few weekends ago but, mostly, have been around. I left - once more - my mobile number on your machine. I figured that maybe you'd written it down wrong or something and might've left a message for me in someone else's voicemail. When you can, give me a shout, I'd love to hear from you. Maybe we can get together for dinner sometime soon? If you can't do that - I know you're busy - I know some great lunch places around here. Heck, I'll even settle for a quick coffee just to look at you and hold your hand for a few minutes. You get the point, just please give me a shout.

Forgive me for bringing this up but it's been bugging me little. I was telling my buddy that I'd not heard from you and he brought it up that maybe you're not interested in me anymore. Crazy, right? I told him exactly where he could stick that kind of talk. Yep, right in the old poop shoot. I mean, come on, if you were over me, you'd at least let me know, right? Right?

Seriously, you aren't trying to break up with me, are you? I mean, when we were together, we had such an awesome time, didn't we? I know that I did. You did too, didn't you? We smiled at each other, flirted a little; you made me feel alive. You laughed at my jokes and seemed to think I was witty. Hell, even your friends seemed to like me.

Anywho, I was thinking that maybe it was something I said or did? You aren't still mad at me for New Year's, are you? I am sooo sorry for drunk-dialing you like that. Really, it'll never happen again. (I hope.) I was just thinking of you and wanted to hear your voice. At 3 o'clock in the morning. While I was in Waffle House. With a ton of strippers. What can I say? I think 8 messages on your machine should be enough to convince you that my apology was sincere.

I bet it's someone else, isn't it? Is it one of those douchebag little guys you met right after me? That adolescent prick from the elite private school with the Mercedes? That little shit has never worked a day in his life. Really, what could you see in him? How funny would it be for you to dump me for that clown? Pretty hilarious, huh? I know, I know: you're better than that!

If it is something that I said, you should know that I was completely honest with you and never meant to hurt your feelings or anything. Look, I stand by everything I said. I thought we clicked. Maybe I was wrong about you...about us. I thought we had a future together. I guess I was wrong. I hope I'm not but, with this deafening silence from you, my mind is really starting to make me think that you're not interested in me, that you've moved on. If so, then I wish you the best. I'll be sad but, hey, don't worry about me, I'll be just fine on my own.

OK, enough of the crazies from me. I hope that we'll have a good laugh at my paranoia over beers sometime soon. Call soon, will you? I really, really want to hear your voice.

All the best,

The Scholar

P.S. - If it is that little prick with the Mercedes, you can go to hell.