I Thought That I Was From Maine Would Be A Bigger Deal To You, Anna Kendrick

Dear Anna Kendrick,
You may think that the reason I've waited almost a week to write this letter is that I was holding out hope, pining away, not just waiting by the phone but even sleeping with it right by my ear just waiting for your call.  And you wouldn't be entirely wrong . . . except  that none of those things are true.

Because, see, AK47, maybe I've just been, like, umm, really busy at work this past week, and I haven't had a chance to write this letter.  So, yeah, that's why it took me so long to find the 15 minutes it will take to write this letter, not because I've (*loud sigh*) been holding out hope.  (Nice paragraph, Dude.  Sounds totally plausible--way to play it cool.) 

And, even if you were to call/email/Tweet me and ask me on a date, during this last week I've come to the realization that things can't work with us, and I would have to turn you down.  (Way to turn the tables on her, here, Dude--women always want what they can't have.  She's bound to come acallin' now!)

Don't worry, though, it's not you--although just to be clear, it's not me either.  There's nothing wrong with us (well, with me anyway--if I'm being entirely honest you are just a little short for my tastes . . . but don't sweat it), the problem is that we have too much in common: both in our mid-20s; both from Portland, Maine; both incredibly good-looking; both incredibly famous and successful (I don't know if you've heard, AK, but I'm kinda blowing up right now--this blog had almost 75 page views one day last week!).  With two people like that, how could things work out?  There's just too much possibility for friction with so much fabulousness (and winter LL Bean apparel) in one relationship.

But, anyway, AK, I want you to know I don't have any hard feelings.  What we had (or I imagined we could have had--same thing, really) was a great and special thing.  So, Anna, next time I see you at Gritty McDuff's in the Old Port, I won't make a scene, I won't yell at you, scream about how you never called, embarrass you in front of all your friends and fans and cause a scene that would surely get at least a paragraph or two on TMZ . . . instead, I'll just smile at you from across the bar, give a little knowing wave, and quietly walk away.  It's for the best.  Because we're just too much alike.

Sincerely,
A Dude You Should Date