Hey Girl, Here’s An Open Letter To All The Ladies Heartbroken Over Ryan Gosling

Hey girl, you’ve seen the news by now. Eva Mendes is not only pregnant with Ryan Gosling’s baby, but she’s had a Baby Baby Goose cooking in that oven for seven months now. I know, there goes your hope of being that girl next door that would somehow catch Ryan’s eye and make him want to settle down with you, a girl with a good heart that can help him escape the flash and glitz of Hollywood when he comes home from a long day of work and just wants to take his shirt off, maybe replace it with a tank top, pour you a glass of wine, rub your feet and ask you about your day. I know how badly you wanted that life, girl. But it’s gone.

Shhhh, shhhh, come here and rest your head against my chest.

Sure, it’s not as defined as Ryan’s chest, nor are my abs as rippled, but few human males are put together like Baby Goose. He’s like a LEGO set that comes with the instructions for the perfect man. Oh no, I’m missing the elbow piece that connects his heart to his soul! Haha, just kidding, girl. It was here all along… under your hand, which was on top of Ryan’s hand. But that hand has vanished, girl, and it will soon be holding a video camera pointed at Eva as she squeezes out a baby that will undoubtedly have the DNA of an angel and the ability to whisper, “Bless you,” when you sneeze in your sleep.

It’s okay, girl. It’s gonna be okay.

Ever since The Notebook, you’ve probably dreamed about the day that you’d be out on a bike ride and maybe happen across Ryan on a country road. Of course, you wouldn’t recognize him at first because he’d be under an old car, tinkering away, but you’d stroll up and ask if he needed some help, or maybe if he’d like a sip of the lemonade you brought along in your basket. He’d scoot out and stand up, extend his hand to shake yours before realizing that he had some grease on it, so he’d take his t-shirt off to clean his smooth-but-powerful hands before gently taking your delicate hand in his own, looking you right in the eyes, and saying, “Hey girl, I’m Ryan, and I hope there’s no sugar in that lemonade, because you’re too sweet as it is.”

I know, honey, it’s so hard to accept, but you have to be strong. Ryan would want it that way.

Your natural reaction might be to curse Eva, because she’s the woman who has accepted Ryan’s magical seed into her womb and created the perfect man’s first offspring. But you can’t blame her for wading into the deep pools of his baby blue eyes. You can only stare at her in admiration and with respect for being the girl to win this perfect male specimen. I know that is hard to accept, girl, but if Baby Goose could talk you down right now, he’d probably say, “Hey girl, do you have any Ryan Gosling in you? Eva does, and I need to be a lover and a father now.” Then he’d boop your nose, because he loves to boop.

Here, have some more sangria, girl, we’re going to get through this, okay?

If there’s a silver lining to this all, girl, it’s that Baby Goose is doing this all without marrying Eva. Maybe he was more than happy to give her a baby, but his heart isn’t yet hers to take. That means there’s still a chance that you could be stranded in the rain with a flat tire and no umbrella, and he’d pull up in an old pickup truck while driving away from the altar, where Eva left him standing alone, humiliated in front of his friends and family, so he just went out for a ride. Then he saw you standing in the rain and shivering, so he got out and let you hold his tuxedo jacket over your head while he fixed your tire, and then when he stood up, he didn’t realize how close you were standing, and you were nose to nose in awkward silence.

Come on, girl, don’t cry anymore. Those tears are turning those crystal blue or green or hazel eyes red.

Maybe one day down the road, when Ryan is coaching his son’s soccer game, and Eva is off somewhere dating Nick Cannon or Steve-O, you’ll be bringing your own son from your loveless marriage to the park for his game, and instead of teasing the grounds crew by letting your G-string rise up above your mom shorts, you’ll lock eyes with Baby Goose while he’s buying a snow cone. He’ll turn to you and say, “Hey girl, check it out, it’s snowing in the summer,” and he’ll smile and hand you a cone. You’ll smile in return, adjusting your shorts, because the guy putting a dip in clearly has an erection, and Ryan will add, “Maybe we can get a bite to eat later,” and you’ll respond, “Sure, when?”

He’ll look off at his kid playing with yours and look back into your eyes before touching your hand and saying, “I think we have plenty of time to figure that out.” Then he’d whistle for his dog Patches to bring you a rose.

A John Mayer song starts playing as the sun sets, which is odd because it’s noon.