There it was. A google search had taken someone to The HaraQuack Times with the words "Kerri Strug," "boyfriend," and "Jonathan." I cried all night.
I loved Kerri Strug once. But it wasn't meant to be. At least, that's what I tell myself in order to find comfort. I've tried to find another woman to replace Kerri Strug in my heart, but I don't think I even give anyone else a chance. My lingering feelings for her are often unwanted. I feel like I'll never be happy without her. Can I ever love again? I'm not sure if I can accept the sensual embrace of a woman who isn't named Kerri Strug. I haven't had sex in so long, A.C. Green feels bad for me.
I long for the days where I would wake up with her in my arms. A gentle kiss on the back of the neck. Stroking her hair. Smiles secured on our faces. The world would make sense again. Why isn't she with me now? Why won't she be with me in the future either?
Who the fuck is this Jonathan? How come I hadn't heard of him until now? I had to learn about this so-called Jonathan this way? Through a google search? She didn't even have the decency to tell me that she had feelings for another. I'm so angry, but strangely, not at her. I love her. I just want to be with her. It doesn't help to hear her name out of the mouth of Tony Kornheiser on Monday Night Football.
You might wonder why I would let a woman make me feel this way. I wonder myself why I can't overcome this sadness. It might be true that I've never met Kerri Strug, but that doesn't soften the pain. I sometimes stay up late at night and wish I never chose her in the 16th round of our Jew Draft. Perhaps had I gone with my instinct and picked Marvin Hamlisch, this devastating episode would have never happened. Maybe my eyes would still have life in them. My life may even have meaning. But we can't change the past. They say time heals all wounds. The days seem to pass by so slowly. It doesn't help that my calender features the 1996 US Olympics Gymnastics Team.