I'm sorry, but this is a very difficult for me. The time we've spent together during the past year has been fantastic. But I'm distracting you. You can't concentrate on your work. You haven't even managed to get your web site done.
Neither of us ever expected this to work out after I wrote about you. When you emailed me and we arranged to meet at the LPGA U.S. Open, sparks just flew. Sure everyone thought a 40 something and a teen golf phenom didn't have a chance. We showed them.
But I'm no good for you. Your golf game has gone to hell. You need to be practicing on the green and not sneaking our for a little night putting with me. Yes, we waited until you were street legal, but now you need to focus on college.
Your best finish this year was 69th . It was sweet of you to do that for me (and I certainly got the joke), but you need to get on with your potential. That Nike money isn't going to last forever if you don't start winning soon. And thanks for the all the clubs and shirts, but I told you, I'm a Mizuno golf man from way back.
Don't worry, Michelle. I'm sure you'll find someone else. Maybe, if my heart has mended a bit, I'll come and caddy for you at the Sony Open again. *sniff* Be strong, little Wie Wie.
P.S. You also need to get a little distance from your Mom & Dad too. When agents bail on you two years in a row, that's a bad sign. If you don't get your shit together, you'll be showing up places with no underwear and a shaved head. I don't understand why my exes have so much trouble getting over me.