Dear Zac Efron

Dear Zac Efron,

I am sorry to be writing to you like this, but I am afraid we are going to have to break up.

No, no, the “cougar” stigma doesn’t bother me, and this has nothing to do with what people might be saying about us in the tabloids. I mean, ever since Demi and Ashton, couples like us really aren’t news anymore.

And, truly, it’s not you, it’s me.

Well, it is a little bit you, but nothing that is technically your fault.

I mean, you can’t help it that you’re only 28... 25... 21, and I’m 28... 35... old enough to know what a 21-year-old has to offer. And that, my darling tot, is why we must part ways.

Oh, sure, we had our good times. Remember HSM the original? Your flirty head toss would transport me back in time, when I used to date the singing, dancing, basketball star. I was lured in with your perfect teeth and the promise that, if I got my head in the game, we could bop to the top, because we were all in this together. You made me feel 17 again.

(Oh, and, sorry about the bad reviews. I never saw it, so I cannot judge, but I can assure you that, even though I’m closer in age to Matthew Perry, that movie has nothing to do with our break up.)

No, the root of our problem has nothing to do with the cute way you wink or tousle your hair (please don’t ever slick it back again like you did at the Oscars, even though we’re over now).

The problem is, after watching a boat-load (literally) of your kind play on the lake this weekend, I can no longer consider taking in a 21-year-old boy toy.

Granted, there was a time when a hot young thing joy-riding on a speed boat named “Board Me,” wearing nothing but swim trunks and a beaded necklace purchased in some Rumpleminz-infested Spring Break town and yelling “Who farted?” in Spanish (over and over and over) would make me swoon. Those were the days I saw nothing at all wrong with a guy who could sustain himself on a diet of Taco Bell and Natural Light and knew every episode of “South Park” by heart.

But watching the party barge pelvic-thrust to Kanye reminded me that I have dated 21-year-olds before, and I do not ever need to do that again. Thank goodness. Because I am just not up to training another one.

So, while I find your flashy smile and dreamy blue eyes positively charming, Zac Efron, I am afraid we must part ways.

Though I do wish you had stuck around for “Footloose.”

(sigh) I must go now. It is time for me to move on to a celebrity crush who I know won't be tempted use me for the cheap rental car insurance.

Which reminds me, do you have George Clooney’s cell number?