We reproduce the letter here with the publisher's permission.
I'm a happy, confident 57 year old nation but my ex-boyfriend won't accept that our relationship is over. In recent months I have made
much-needed positive changes to my lifestyle and I no longer see my future with him. At first, he took the news with dignity, but his recent
behaviour has been needy, desperate, and, frankly, a bit embarrassing. Through his personal website and regular TV appearances, he keeps
assuring my people that contrary to their own beliefs, they do still adore him. His version of our relationship is a fantasy of his own creation.
We've changed our phone numbers, updated our Facebook relationship status, even blocked him on Twitter, but this
just seems to make things worse. A restraining order seems so dramatic but I'm beginning to wonder if it's the most appropriate course of
Just last week I visited him at work to give him the whole 'it's not you, it's me' talk, but he just stroked my
hair and told me that he's looking forward to spending the rest of his life with me. It's like he's mentally incapable of getting the message.
I hate how I'm feeling like the wicked witch in all this when in fact he's the one who's been a real bell-end over the last couple of years.
We've both been going through a lot of heavy stuff recently, and I feel like I've grown up a lot as a nation,
but he just hasn't. He's a few years older than me, but I know for a fact that he still has a roving eye for totally inappropriate young girls.
Before I got a new mobile last week, he was texting me up to five times a day, asking me if I'd seen his latest
show, if I still thought he was the best archaeotainer in the world, that sort of thing. He'd phone in the early hours, sobbing drunkenly
into the phone. But even now, he never says that he loves me - he just tells me that I love him. I do feel sorry for him, but I'm not
going to stay with him out of pity. That way he'd never face up to the truth - that he's been acting like a cock for years.
In the beginning, I really admired him. He had real drive and was going places at work - in charge of lots of things,
shouting at people and making TV programmes. And he has always looked good in his jeans and hat, for a man of his age. I had posters of him on my
bedroom wall, I even ran his official fan club for a while. But he had a dark, selfish, insecure side. He became jealous, and didn't want me
watching programmes that weren't about ancient Egypt. He became obsessed with the idea that I was cheating on him with leading British
archaeotainer, Tony Robinson.
How can I get him to stop with all the lies, whilst also preserving my own dignity? I'm not sure I'll ever be
able to trust another Minister of Antiquities ever again. Please help.
Although Egypt's letter remains unanswered at the time of writing, we contacted Hawass for his comment. He told
us: "I am very happy that you rang to talk to me. I will tell my enemies and all the liars - you are my people and you adore me. Yes,
yes, you must ring me again tomorrow. And perhaps we can go to the pyramids and we hold hands? And at night you just hold me tight?"
Before Egyptastic hung up on the erstwhile antiquities chief, he added: "I can pay you."