I don't know how we keep getting ourselves into this situation. I'm not sure if the two of us are in lust with one another or in love. Maybe it's just hate. Besides, those semantics are for Greek philosophers and I'm just a schlep currently living in Connecticut.
I know. I know. It It seems to happen every year between us. When the teams announce their schedules and I begin to align my calendar for the Louisville and Syracuse games, I grow dizzy with excitement. I become a school boy with a crush on the girl with pony-tails and freckles. I get all sappy silly. Suddenly I want to watch the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp and I get goo-goo eyes for the court. The flirting intensifies in December and January when you always come after me while I am always looking for ways to come after you. We're worse than some of those mating scenes on Animal Planet. My blood pumps harder and in February, I can't get you out of my mind. You obsess me. By tournament time I lose more and more and more of myself to you. By the Big East tournament I realize I am whipped once again (and this year, you had to destroy a conference I've loved for so, so long). I feel like the play toy of Aphrodite - like you are Eurydice and I'm Orpheus year after year after year.
But you were more aggressive on me this year with Syracuse and Louisville. Then you hooked me into UCONN with Breanna Stewart, a star athlete from my alma mater in Central, New York. Sometimes I think you get a kick out of seeing how obedient I will be to your whims and fancies. It kills me that you can never just settle down with me . You have a crazy business of toying with my everything.
Jesus.
Syracuse. Louisville. Connecticut. This year was too much. I've had enough.
Our relationship is not healthy. Actually, I think it is kind of abusive and sometimes it really, really hurts how you do me. I love you to death and I will never regret a second of what we've created together, but I need more space. I need to take time to think about who we are together and if we have a chance to work things out again. Yes. Of course. You're right. You have me a Championship this year with Louisville on the men's side and UCONN on the Women's side. Yet, you've invaded my life and taken all my free time away. You've cost me more money than ever before and an incredible amount of stress. Worst of all, the beer, pizza, and chicken wings have given me heartburn and caused me to gain weight. I have heard of lovesick relationships, but this year it went too far. You made me a couch potato.
Please. Please. Don't cry. It's not all your fault. I take some of the blame.
I love you and we will always have a very special relationship, but I have to bring it to an end for now. Our thing - whatever this relationship is - has caused too much gossip with my Kentucky fans, especially those who grew bitter after an uneventful season. They talk badly about my us. They can't understand the twisted way you get into my head and cause me to act like a fool.
I need a break. I need to do some reflection and reconsider what is most important in my life right now. Although you are near the top, I need space. I need to work more on me. I have to find me again - not as a fanatic moron obsessed with your every move, but as a man who has many interests and responsibilities. The co-dependency is over.
And quite frankly, I'm simply tired. I have no more to give you. You took too much from me this season.
Good. I'm glad that made you smile. You like to see your power over me. It's all good. Everything will be alright. You'll be just fine without me until next year. You can go play with Tiger Woods on the golf courses or fool around with those in the world of MLB.
But for the next 8 months, I need it to be just me. I need to heal some...process what we just went through.
I know you understand.
I'll be in touch soon.
Bry
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