Letters Between Song Characters

Jack and Diane

 

The hair tells you that he’s proud to be an American. The shirt tells you he’s proud of his arms. The 1000 yard stare tells you he’s lonely.

Dear Jack.

 I apologize for having to do this in an email, but I had to get my feelings out once and for all. I would have preferred to do this in person but every single time I try to have a serious conversation with you regarding our marriage, you start sucking on some chilli dogs outside the Tasty Freeze. The doctor has told you numerous times that your cholesterol is through the damn roof and eating spicy, greasy foods and manufactured pork products is wreaking havoc with your acid reflux. If you keep this up your heart is going to quit on you or you’re going to get that cancer of the esophagus that they warned you about.

Another thing that’s bothering me is that we can never sit anywhere without you oafishly trying to jam your hand between my knees. Jack, we’re in our 50’s for Christ sakes, it’s time to grow the fuck up and stop the ham handed groping, you know? I’m also getting really tired of you asking me to “dribble off those Bobby Brooks and let you do what you please.” First of all Bobby Brooks haven’t been made in close to 30 years. These days I mostly wear the Wal-Mart brand because it’s close and it’s all we can afford. Secondly what pleases you rarely pleases me. One second you’re promising me the sexual world and the next second you’re back in the living room eating left over chilli dogs while I’m left feeling sticky and nauseous.

Now before you start scratching your head and doing your best James Dean… sorry, but I promised myself I’d let it all out. I’ve been meaning to tell you how much that James Dean act annoys the shit out of me. It’s just fucking repulsive. It was kind of cute when you were 18 and he was only recently dead, but now it’s becoming borderline psychotic. And you really date yourself when you do that, you know? Can’t you find a new impersonation? You should see the way people look at me when you do that. With pity Jack, they look at me with pity. Maybe start doing DeNiro or Pesci, maybe Pesci from Home Alone… that might be good for a laugh.

I guess that the point I’m trying to make is that I think it’s over between us Jack. I’m just not the same debutant I was in the backseat of your car.  We were so young when we started dating, just two American kids doing the best we could. You were supposed to be a football star but you couldn’t even get a scholarship to a division three school, and we’ve always lived in the heartland so there wasn’t even that much competition. Since then you’ve shuffled from one crappy job to the next with no motivation and a growing Vicodan habit.

I just can’t take it anymore. Sorry Jack but life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.

Thanks for wasting the best years of my life you fucking loser. My divorce lawyer will be in touch.

Diane.