Dearest Thomas,

It’s been a while, and I am sorry. I’ve been meaning to check in, but then life happened. You know how that goes.

I’m writing you this letter to tell you we should part ways. For good this time. It’s not you, it’s me. Also a little bit you. Actually, it’s mostly you. But you still deserve an explanation. Far be it from me to ghost you at this point in our relationship. Stay strong and try to get through this entire letter — it’s from my heart.

I remember when we first met. You were Maverick. I was in my formative years. You had a cocksure ‘tude and the leather jacket to match. You made volleyball look cool and Val Kilmer look douchey. Hell, you pulled off the greatest dramatic bathroom scene acted out in tighty-whiteys Hollywood has ever known. I wouldn’t have admitted it then, but you had me at hello (more on that in a bit).

What followed was our golden years. Color of Money. Cocktail. Rainman. Our relationship was solidified with your turn as Cole Trickle in Days of Thunder. I was up many a night afterward pondering if I ever would be able to just put the pedal to the metal and drive through the smoke. Many a day I dreamed of renting cars and racing them on the beach with my frenemy. Plus you got to bang your doctor, who just so happened to be Nicole Kidman before she became the weird emotionless robot she is now.

After that was Mission: Impossible. Instead of shitty action movie, it was an awesome spy thriller. I thought you could do no wrong. I accepted the critically-acclaimed movies as “merely a phase you were going through.”  You were going to return to the cool aloof movies that made our relationship great. Instead you made the afore-referenced Jerry Maguire. Douchey sports agent finds himself.. .and love? That was a role Iceman should’ve taken, not the Maverick I knew and loved. Surely it was a mistake, I told myself. Surely.

Then you came at me with Magnolia. Magnolia!? With some weird short bob hairdo and nary an action sequence in sight? Dafuq was that about?

I’m sorry for getting confrontational. It was just a frustrating time. Especially when I saw Mission Impossible: II. My heart broke. It was just another stupid action movie. And you became a stupid action-movie star.

It was hard for me to watch you. Every movie was the Tom Cruise show. I mean, you actually did a movie where you had to come in and save some samurais. After they deftly won against the exact people from whom you had to save them. I needed a break.

I was skeptical when I heard about Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation. But It was highly rated. It had the promise of a good action movie. What it delivered was the same Cruisian ego show that pushed me away. No growth as a person. What were you doing during our break? I learned to listen more. You banged Katie Holmes and called it a day.

That’s why I can’t see you (in a movie) anymore. I need someone who can grow as an actor. Sure, Matt Damon did We Bought A Zoo, but he also realized when it was time to stop being Bourne and let someone else destroy the series (looking at you, Jeremy). And don’t try to sway me with some role in an edgy indie flick. It’s over. We had some good times, we had some bad times, and in the end we just need different things out of your movies. You need it to validate you as a person and I need it to be good.

I hope you take care of yourself. I’ll always remember the movies we shared. Until I sell them because DVDs are obsolete.

Love,

Patrick