I recently retold the story of the Orouse-Erich from ” trolling through mountains and pastures.” She was on one of my online dating sites and was looking for a man to spend time with. She lives for the highest points in the view from any place. A man who would see and love her wildliness.
She is the diehard and infathered and it showed. I once emailed her reacting to what another guy had written and no sooner than responded was she snarky. “Bologna involvement,” she wrote. I remembered what she said to another man who sought her out online: “Scammer, scammer, frog, snake, had contact with many frogs but only one called me.”
My mind was Burner than she knew. This woman had a son in arms to deal with, too. They were calling me names at one point. But I became their voice of sanity. I was not speaking in thought, neither was I repeating any regime. I was speaking on high and civil ground, and I shared my thoughts and feelings with them without defining myself or having any false walls to protect my heart.
Too intense? Too boring? Too combative? Perhaps it will sound as a call for readers to write to their exes. This is not so easy. ” Sending emails” fits the bill nicely, doesn’t it? We want to keep our comfortable moments uninhibited, right? Yet it can’t come too close or we take it too seriously.
When it comes to an online dating site, you don’t have to look as far as outside sources to find love. Love can find you if you look inward and turn to your own efforts. Still… it may break your heart to be separated from what I would call my real flame. I was truly a perfect match.
I began an online dating adventure with a heavy heavy heart. My then 3-year-old son would stare slumped on his little couch. I hunched over the little console I played video games on in my anxiety and boredom.
I kept telling myself that I was being as overly youthful as I was when I thought I was going to die. I was unworthy of true love, and there was no point to my being single at all. Yet, visions of me on my deathbed begged in my mind. Every few weeks, I would entertain those fantasies, but they always turned out false.
Then, a funny thing happened. I started talking to a nice man about how life could be, and all that I was longing for. He was clearly new to the area, having spent most of his 35’s married and already had a child from a previous marriage. He was a direct person, very articulate, and had no great desire to hear how my life was falling apart. He wanted the usual stuff about where I lived, what I did for a living, what kind of work I did. Enough said, no cheating. But what I wanted most of all was to be loved for who I was. He wanted the same thing, aside from perhaps a warm bed and some cuddling after.
At some point, I told myself I was ready to stop this scam. He wanted me, and I wanted us to have a real relationship. Then, out of the blue, I got an email from him. “I am so sorry, but I am not into dating.” Really? What could he mean? No idea. We continued to communicate, but I was already feeling Sneaky sweety. This wasn’t Mr. Who I had dreamed of being with. This was a That shined like a bright bulb in my chest. He confessed that he wasn’t into dating, but he wanted our relationship to exist. Fine. I would try to fit him into my tedious and expensive schedule.
Why was I doing this? I had spent close to 3 years making myself and my life special. I wanted this man to know that I was everyone’s best friend, but also that I was not into dating; not yet anyway. For a few anxious days, we exchanged phone numbers. Then, without any warning, he stopped calling. Screeeeech. He wasn’t coming back in my real life. He wasn’t welcome into my virtual world. The Internet was a new area of experience for me, and space was limited, so he simply brushed himself off and went on his way.
When he didn’t call back, I didn’t pursue him, for happenstance or simple lack of belief in my ability to find another man. If someone wouldn’t come back, I would not try to find another reason to talk to him, hoping to ensnare him with my magnificence.
