We're Big on Big Tex.

Well “Howdy,” Big Tex.

You're a tall drink of water, you know that? Of course you do. You probably also know that I'm looking forward to drinking you in on Friday when the State Fair doors open and I get to come say hello.

I hope you are, too.

Listen: I know things have been weird between us of late. I know you think it's crazy that I got that tattoo of you on my arm. And I know you thought it was even weirder when I ended up doing an interview on a local news network and implied that we may or may not be in a relationship.

I get it. Don't worry. I know you're only in Dallas for 24 days out of the whole year and that you can't commit yourself to me.

I really do understand.

I mean, hey, you're a public figure. Other people love you, too. I understand that.

I just wish you could see that I love you for more than that size-70 cowboy boot you wear and for more than the fame that's attached to your name.

I'm not saying I want to be Mrs. Tex or anything. I just want you to give me a chance.

Maybe we could hang out some time, away from the crowds? Just the two of us?

I know this may sound creepy, but, last year, I took some time out of my fair visit and I just sat down right there, right in front of you, among the crowds walking past. You kind of blue me away that day: There were thousands of people walking around, and, I'll be damned, you waved at every single one of them. And you greeted them all with that deep, manly voice of yours.

I don't think you even noticed me. I thought for a second that we had made eye contact. But then I saw the cute little blonde behind me taking your picture. I can only assume you were smiling for her camera.

This year, though, maybe things will be different. I mean, it's a special one for you.

Oh, you didn't think I'd forget, did you? Of course not. This is, after all, the year you turn 60.

You know, that's another thing: I generally like younger guys. I mean, that's what I'm normally into. But you? You just have something that draws me in. The age gap doesn't matter to me.

You're the greatest.

You open up your home to complete strangers year after year. You don't cast judgment on any of us as we walk around, stuffing our faces with fried foods. You don't mock us when we spend ridiculous amounts of money on useless carnival prizes. You embrace the Red River Rivalry. You didn't even laugh when we spent millions to construct a sky way that literally only stretches a third of a mile.

You just stand there, smiling and waving and making all of us feel so accepted and welcomed.

How do you expect people to not fall in love with you? How do you, Big? How?

OK. OK. I feel like I'm getting a little worked up.

And I don't want to do that. That won't help anything.

I just wanted you to know that I'll be there, front and center at your 60th birthday celebration. Y'know, the one that's being held on Saturday, September 29 at 2:15 p.m. in Big Tex Circle? Yeah, that one. And, just so you know, I'll also be at the Toast to Big Tex on Sunday, September 30, at 1 p.m.

You don't have to talk to me. I know it's open to the public and that there will be lots of other people around.

But, yeah, like I said, I'll be there. And, if you want, I'd love to talk.

I'll be the one in the yellow dress, holding two Fletcher's corn dogs — one for me and one for you.

Take your time talking to everyone else at these affairs. I won't mind. I won't get jealous.

I don't mind waiting if it means I'm waiting for you.

Hope to talk soon,
Melissa

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