I wrote Kelly (the object of my unrequited love), telling her about my script and the character I based on her. I ended my missive by asking her to write back to let me know if she wanted to see the script. Well, she didn't write back. I sent her the script, anyway. All I can say is I hope she reads it, especially the "Nicholas and Alexandra speech" at the end in which the character based on me says the things I wish I'd said to Kelly all those years ago. (See my last journal entry, for details.)

I have her work phone number and I'm tempted to call. I probably won't, though, since I know what will happen. I'll call, the secretary won't put me through, I'll leave a message, but, just as she didn't respond to my e-mails, she won't return my call, either.

You know, it's funny: Years ago, I told Kelly that I started writing. She asked what I was writing, and I said, half jokingly, "Jilted: the Jeff Gallen Story (Jeff Gallen being my real name)." Now, I've actually written a script called "Jilted," and rejection, it turns out, really is my life story.

Nevertheless, I'll go ahead and call her, if that's what you, my readers, want. If I get nothing else out of the experience, I'll get something to write about. (I hate to admit this, but I often do things, just to have things to right about.)

Should I call her or not? I leave it up to you. Let me know, either way.