Dear Kevin Costner - A Love Letter

                               1990's -Kevin Costner             2012- Kevin Costner

Dear Kevin Costner

I just thought you should know that you were my first love.  

I distinctly remember, age 7, watching you in Dances with Wolves and falling a little in love.  As I recall it was a family cinema outing, which were rather rare in those days.  We had just enjoyed a hearty family dinner at the Golden Egg Restaurant.  I had eaten a hamburger, which up to that moment had been the best thing in my life, but then I saw you Dancing (and stuff) with Wolves and that hamburger was quickly forgotten. You were very dashing.  At age 7 the defining points of the movie as I remember them, were: a soldier having his leg amputated with a hacksaw and your faithful wolf companion being shot/shot at (did it die?) by those mean, Yankee soldiers.    

You appeared in my life again a year later in 1991, as Robin Hood Prince of Thieves. I’m not going to sugarcoat it, I was a little bit jealous of Maid Marian.  There was a fair amount of slow dancing done at school dances to that theme tune, Bryan Adams’, ‘Everything I do, I do it for you,’ as I shuffled round a school hall in an oversized Mickey-Mouse T-shirt and white leggings, I was thinking only of you.

However the defining moment of my love for you had to be when you chose to be The Bodyguard to Whitney.  As a young South African growing up at the tail end of apartheid your multi-racial romance was eye opening to me.  I distinctly remember thinking, ‘Wow, a white man is kissing a black woman?’ I had no idea such radical love was possible.  

Only later on did I see you stylishly kicking immoral ass in The Untouchables.  By then you'd won me over with your politics – stealing from the rich to give to the poor, fighting crime, embracing new tribal cultures and kissing a beautiful black woman.  I was smitten.

Our 28-year age gap has meant that I’ve had to keep you as my secret old man crush.  It’s been easier since the ‘90s as you virtually disappeared.  I don’t want to talk about Waterworld.  I loved you in The Guardian, I know it was more age appropriate that I perv over Ashton Kutcher, but I only had eyes for you.  You played an aging, wreck of a man so well. 

And here you are again in 2013, just when I had put my love for you aside, you just pop up all wholesome and paternal as Superman’s Earthly father in Man Of Steel.  I gave your adopted son and his formidable 6-pack the Glad eye, but he still can’t quite compete.

Now through the magic of twitter I discover that you have a band, Kevin Costner Modern West, touring  America playing music inspired by the T.V series, 'The Hatfields & The McCoys' (I only watched half of it, a tad too much Romeo & Juliet styled family death for me).  I've always rather fancied the actor-slash-singer combo so once again your stock is on the rise.

After all these years my ardour has not cooled.  You are now my very much older man crush.  I’m holding you entirely accountable for the 10-year age gap in my marriage.   Strangely I’ve never googled you until 3 minutes ago to work out exactly how perverse and age-inappropriate my feelings for you are.  I have no idea if there is a Mrs. Costner, but if there is and she turns in her resignation…I’m sure my husband would understand, I mean after 23 years it must be love?

Yours in the spirit of guilty secrets,
xxx