Katie Holmes, we need to talk.

As you know, I’ve been a big fan for a long time. I first saw you in Dawson’s Creek, and even though I thought your name was Pacey (which I later found out was the guy’s name, even though it’s a terrible name for a guy, as is Joey for a girl), I knew you had something special. A grace and Midwestern charm that befitted a soon to be star. And so early on I hitched my wagon to your star.

I followed you and cheered you on at every move. I thought you were great in The Ice Storm. I caught you for a few moments in Wonder Boys (did you get to meet Michael Chabon? I bet that was cool). I bought Disturbing Behavior, even though it was really terrible (I guess as a teen star, you’re required to be in at least one mediocre monster movie). I think I may have been the only person to watch (and like) Abandon, even though you did such a great job in it. Over the last few years, I’ve followed your career with pride. When a friend spoke of Natalie Portman’s beauty, I countered with yours. When a new movie of yours came out, I prodded as many people as possible into going to see it. When I had my little radio show in Ithaca, one of the running jokes was that it was my goal to get a phone interview with you. The whole year I tried and tried. Finally I reached your publicist, and the farthest I got was a returned call that said you were “unavailable at this time.”

Maybe, at that early juncture, I should have realized that we were not compatible.

I watched Pieces of April. I wasn’t really impressed, but I thought you did a pretty good job. Then I heard you were going to be in Batman Begins! How exciting! I knew you would reach stardom someday, and it looked like you were there!

That, Katie Holmes, is when things started to go downhill.

I watched First Daughter, and the movie was so bad, I decided to watch just the commentary, and hear you speaking as yourself, what your concerns, your thoughts, your hopes were. But the stuff I heard was kind of inane, and I realized that you had never been to college, that you had jumped straight into a movie star lifestyle out of high school, which will, of course, kind of bend a person out of shape. I started to have my doubts about your grace and charm. Maybe, I thought, you weren’t all I had suspected you were.

And then came this Tom Cruise thing.

Now, I know you’re your own woman. When you married Chris Klein, I said, well, the guy’s kind of a tool, but he was in Election. He is an indy actor– besides the fact he plays dumb jocks, he’s got a little cred. But Cruise? Sure, he’s a great actor, but the guy’s crazy. He’s insane.

He’s a scientologist.

He’s trouble, Katie. And yet you two are canoodling and flirting around in all the major papers. He’s 42, you’re 26. You’ve said in interviews that you once dreamed of “marrying Tom Cruise.” The whole thing is just wrong. Where’s the midwestern grace and charm that I saw in the girl on Dawson’s Creek?

It’s too weird to be real– and maybe it isn’t. He’s got War of the Worlds coming out, and the New York Post postulates (as I suspected from the first I heard of this) that the whole “relationship” might be an insidious publicity scheme, designed to push both WoW and Batman Begins simultaneously. Either way, however– if the relationship’s real or if it isn’t– Katie Holmes, I think it’s over between us.

I know it’s kind of a shock, but this has been a long time coming. We’ve grown apart, and the fact that we’ve never actually met probably has something to do with it. It’s not you, it’s me, Katie Holmes. I don’t like fake Hollywood stars, and I’m starting to suspect that you’re one of them. I think it’s time we parted ways.

I wish you good luck. Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll see you around– of course I’m going to see Batman Begins– it is Batman, after all, and it can’t be as bad as the Schumacher movies.. But when the sequel to First Daughter comes out, don’t look for me in the audience, because I won’t be there. It has to be this way.

Good luck. Say hi to Tom for me– if he gives you any kool-aid, you probably shouldn’t drink it. Good luck, and goodbye.