Episode 9: “This letter of yours is going viral, sweet cheeks.”
On the morning of June 19th, I was blessed with an early morning wake-up call.
[laughs]
Well, blessed is a bit of a stretch, but an early wake-up call it certainly was.
Hell, the sun hadn’t even started to rise when someone had sent me a text message that had my damn phone pinging far too loudly for that hour of the morning.
I cracked my eyes open, and when the red numbers on the hotel alarm clock showed 6:05 a.m., I groaned.
I snagged my phone off the nightstand and sighed as I tried to force my eyes open enough to look at the screen. The blinding light urged another annoyed groan from my lungs, and I squinted my gaze as I haphazardly tapped the screen of my phone and pulled up my text message notifications.
It was Allie. The message two words, You awake?
Was I awake? Barely. I mean, it was six in the morning, for fuck’s sake. And I typed out a text that pretty much said exactly that.
But she was relentless. And her response came a short thirty seconds later.
Your Dear Ex-Boyfriend article went live.
Instantly, my back shot up from the mattress like a rocket.
She probably should’ve started with that fact…
But thankfully, she didn’t hold back after that.
Three additional messages filled our chat box.
People are going crazy for it.
And that’s not even the craziest news…
Pretty sure the Ex-Boyfriend in question saw it.
My jaw dropped at the last text, and I didn’t hesitate to fire off one of my own.
It essentially revolved around the question “How do you know that?” but included a lot more exclamation points and shit.
Her answer came in a moment later. Because he commented on it.
If you’re currently thinking holy shit, you’re on the right track here.
Josh reading his Dear Ex-Boyfriend letter was the absolute last thing I’d anticipated.
I guess I should’ve foreseen something like that would happen, but truthfully, I didn’t think any of my exes read my columns. Not to mention, I’d made a point not to use their actual names.
After I sent Allie a quick OH MY GOD response, I clicked out of my text messages and pulled up the internet browser app on my phone.
Thirty seconds later, I was face-to-face with the front page of Scoop’s website, and my article sat dead center.
My eyes damn near bugged out of my head when I clicked the article open and saw that not only had twenty thousand people shared it and fifty thousand people had liked it, but there were also several thousand comments.
Most were from my readers. Ones whose names I knew from my columns.
But there were a lot of readers I’d never seen before, both men and women, and they appeared to be inspired to write their own Dear Ex letters.
And there, at the very top of the comments section, was the one comment that had the most likes.
The commenter’s name? One letter. J.
In order for you to get the full effect, I need to read you J’s comment…
[clears throat]
Dear LuLu,
It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
I guess the cat’s out of the bag that I’ve been following your columns. To be honest, I’ve been following everything you’ve written since we broke up six years ago.
And this morning, when I opened this one, my heart just about crawled out of my throat when I saw that you’d penned a letter to me.
You’re probably going to be shocked to hear me say this, but I deserved all of the bad things you said.
I was a real ass toward the end of our relationship.
I still harbor regrets from the poor way in which I’d handled things.
I’m glad you’re doing well. Whenever I read one of your funny, witty articles, I only feel joy in knowing that you’re doing exactly what you’d wanted to do after you’d graduated college.
I’ve been proud watching from the sidelines as you’ve built a career for yourself.
You’ve done good, LuLu. So damn good.
That first day I met you, I knew you were something special.
God, you were the cutest, most adorable creature I’d ever seen.
Your beauty, your intelligence, your ability to charm every single person in your path—it completely disarmed me.
And eventually, it started to terrify me. I was younger than I am now, in more than just age. A bit stupid and naïve, if I’m being honest with myself.
My biggest issue with our relationship? I always felt like you kept me at a distance. Giving me some of yourself, but never really giving me everything.
Ultimately, my insecurities got the better of me, and instead of being a man and telling you how I felt, I became reckless and careless.
And in the end, I hurt you.
I’m truly sorry for that.
I hope you’ll read this. I hope you’ll see that, although I was a real fucking dick, I cherished the time we spent together.
I still think about you often.
-J
[sighs]
Yeah, it wasn’t exactly the easiest comment to digest.
Once I’d read through it, I sat in my hotel bed and tried to process it all.
He’d been so candid.
So honest
So open.
It was nearly the complete opposite of the man who had cheated on me.
If anything, it reminded me a little of the Josh I’d met in the beginning of our relationship.
It had only taken a few sentences for me to know that it was him.
I knew it from the things he’d said. And even the things he didn’t say but I could read between the lines.
I wondered what he was doing. Was he still on Wall Street? Did he still have a penchant for expensive designer suits and sports cars? Had he settled down and started a family?
I didn’t know the answer to any of those questions, but to my surprise, I didn’t feel the need to want to know.
If anything, I just felt relief.
Like maybe that chapter in my past had officially been closed.
Equal parts liberated and relieved, I clicked on the text message icon and pulled up my conversation with Allie and sent her a message.
I honestly don’t even know what to think of it, you know? It might take me a day or two to process it all, but mostly, I just feel kind of reassured. Like I’m headed in the right direction. Like maybe I can actually find closure?
She responded with Well, I guess those are all good things to feel after you pour your heart out for millions of people to read.
Millions of people? Pfft. That might’ve been stretching it a bit. I told her as much.
But her answering text had nearly floored me.
This letter of yours is going viral, sweet cheeks. I already heard Vanessa prattling on with complaints about all of the news outlets that are trying to reach out to you for an interview. I’m guessing you haven’t checked your email yet, but I can guarantee you’re going to have quite the list of unread messages to sort through…
News outlets, folks. Fucking news outlets were reaching out to my boss for interviews. With me.
It all felt like some serious Twilight Zone kind of shit.
When I asked Allie if I was dreaming it all up, she answered with Unless the hour I spent in the bathroom puking this morning was a façade, I’m pretty damn sure. Proud of you, Lucky.
Yeah. It was downright bonkers.
Once I finished my conversation with Allie, which included sending her anti-nausea, good pregnancy vibes, I felt like I was in a daze trying to process it all.
After I hopped out of bed, brushed my teeth, and ordered a breakfast of coffee and granola from room service, I snagged my laptop off the counter below the television and sat by the window overlooking the ocean and started to rifle through my emails.
Which, by the way, contained exactly what Allie had said.
A long-ass list of new, unread mail.
The first one I clicked on was from Vanessa.
Your Dear Ex-Boyfriend letter has proven to be the hot commodity.
I’ve got media up my ass trying to talk to you.
I want the next two letters ready by June 25th.
And, for the love of God, let my assistant know when you’re available for phone interviews.
Good job, Lucky.
[audible pause]
Good job, Lucky.
Vanessa never told anyone good job.
Like, ever.
Not only had I received probably the most excited email I’d ever received from my boss, she wanted more letters.
Two more, in fact. By June 25th.
[sighs]
Did I mention it was already June 19th?
Right on cue, my shoulders tightened with stress when I realized my new deadline was one damn week away. Not to mention, the whole reason I was in South Africa, the Cape Koni Open, started in two days and lasted through the 25th.
How in the hell was I going to manage to get everything done?
I’ll take “Sleepless Nights” for one thousand, Alex.
[laughs softly]
Clearly, the only option I had was to make it work. No interruptions, nose to the grindstone, just fucking make it work.
No distractions.
It seemed like an easy concept, right?
[laughs softly]
Wrong.
The instant I even thought those two words, my brain decided it was the most perfect time to think of the biggest distraction I’d probably ever had.
Ollie.
As I stepped out through the sliding glass doors of my balcony and looked out toward the beach, I spotted the numerous surfers wading in the water on their boards, ready for their next big adrenaline rush via ocean waves, and I thought about him.
Was he out there?
I’d never actually seen him surf, but it was apparent he hadn’t built his reputation from being anything but brilliant on the water.
Instantly, a vision of his face filled my head, and I focused my gaze toward the crowd of surfers and tried to find his features among the many.
I came up empty-handed, and when I reached for my phone to send him a text message, I had to stop myself dead in my tracks.
Are you also wondering, what in the hell were you doing, Lucky?
If yes, we’re on the same page here.
[laughs softly]
Why I thought texting Ollie a friendly “Hey, what are you up to?” was even a possibility is a damn good question.
Maybe it was because just a few days ago, he’d taught me how to swim.
Or maybe it was because, a few days before that, I’d danced with him until I’d turned stupid with attraction.
Or maybe it was because of all of the times I’d been tempted to kiss him.
[quiet pause and then sighs]
Yeah, your guess is as good as mine…
But in that moment, I’d promised myself no distractions so I could meet my deadlines, and goddammit, I was a woman of my word.
I would stay focused.
I wouldn’t text Ollie.
I wouldn’t even think of Ollie.
[laughs softly]
I was so full of shit, you guys.
Thank God, I still had some form of control over the situation, right?
[soft laugh]
Anyway, that day, while I waited for my breakfast, I grabbed my notebook and pen and decided to make some notes the old-fashioned way.
Instantly, I moved my pen across the loose-leaf paper and wrote the name of the next ex-boyfriend I’d write a letter to: Mac O’Malley.
It had been ages since I’d thought about him.
Built like a boxer and with the greenest eyes I’d ever seen in my life, Mac had been an important part of my past.
His biceps were bigger than my head, and his larger-than-life personality couldn’t be missed in a crowd of thousands. He was an owner of a popular Irish bar in Manhattan. And I’d fallen hard for his easy charm, his laid-back vibe, and the way he lessened my tendencies toward being a bit uptight and encouraged me to let my hair down and live in the moment.
It had been a whirlwind romance filled with late nights, house parties, and music festivals. He introduced me to some of my favorite bands and showed me that camping in the rain for three days straight was one hell of a rush when you got to hear bands like Arctic Monkeys and alt-J and The Neighbourhood play live.
We were together for nearly a year. And for the last four months of our relationship, I’d even lived with him in his apartment above the bar.
But everything hadn’t been roses.
Eventually, I’d slowly started to figure out just how much ol’ Mac loved to drink and party, and his always carefree ways became more of a stress than anything else.
I never knew when he’d come home—or what condition he’d come home in.
And by the end of our relationship, before I ended things for good, I felt like he’d grown careless with me.
Not in a physical sense, but more that he was too focused on being the life of the party to be a supportive partner. And when he hadn’t shown up to my sister Willow’s wedding, that had pretty much been the last straw for me.
I’d moved out the next day and never looked back.
[quiet pause]
Once I’d finished writing my notes about Mac, I tapped my pen on my lip and thought about ex-boyfriend number three…
It didn’t take long for another name to fill the pages.
Ronnie Matthews.
The New Jersey tattoo artist who dabbled in a motorcycle gang.
Aka the liar and convict.
My relationship with him was one of the darkest times in my life.
I’d fallen hard for the clichéd bad boy, and all I ended up with in the process was a broken heart and a boyfriend who had a ten-year prison sentence hanging over his head.
Not at all my most shining moment.
God, if those two relationship mistakes weren’t proof that I needed to readjust my love-life priorities, I didn’t know what was.
But I was determined to find closure with those ghosts, just like I’d found with Josh McClain.
And if that meant I’d lock myself in my hotel room until their letters were written, then so be it.
The things we do for love?
More like the things we do to get over love.
[laughs softly]
All aboard, friends.
The next stop on my closure train is Mac O’Malley.
Get ready. Another Dear Ex-Boyfriend letter is coming in hot…