When he spoke openly about testing the waters of online dating, his profile was public, and so of course, other co-workers and I had to check it out. What struck me most after viewing it was the overall sense of desperation that was conveyed in his "preferences." Height? Any. Religion? Any. Nationality? Any.
To me, the whole thing reinforced the notion that this entire approach equated to begging to get laid. It always seemed that a romantic interest was something you discovered unexpectedly, hence the joy of explaining how you met. Using a dating service not only seemed to encourage some dishonesty to make yourself sound more appealing, but forced you to probably place more pressure on yourself to make any potential match work.
So my conclusion based upon the few examples I knew personally—since I was determined never to try it myself—was that romance and the internet were two entirely different things. Any attempt to combine the two was manufacturing an emotion that's best enjoyed when it occurs naturally.
♥♥♥
As I quickly put together a site on Tumblr for no other reason than just to have somewhere that would host my clips for my hopeful journalism career, I couldn't help but begin to look at that colleague's Tumblr more often. And through that, I began looking at some other people's.
Sure enough, less than a month after I'd signed up only to create a website, I changed my mind and decided it was time to make my own Tumblr. I was suddenly finding I had more time on my hands and there was no denying that MySpace had lost its appeal many months before, so with my rebound of a relationship now seeing us spending less and less time together, I needed something to keep me entertained. Tumblr more than filled that void. Within weeks, I found myself consumed with it.
Additionally, whereas most of those long-distance friendships I'd convinced myself I'd formed via MySpace had either fizzled out or been forgotten entirely, I was beginning to exchange emails with new people in new places through Tumblr.
I wasn't terribly happy with where I was in real life, so I was grateful for any form of escape..
♥♥♥
I started following ™ because she was a close friend of another girl I followed that was posting a lot of the left-leaning, liberal humor I enjoyed in the run-up to the presidential election that year. One of them posted the brief transcript of an IM conversation they'd had in which the two were talking about sand in the vagina and I remember wiping tears from my eyes with how hard I was laughing.
Then I found out ™ was a Braves fan. And a basketball fan. And came from Texas but was anything but the Bush apologist I had assumed most everybody from Texas had to be. And so on. As was the case with many of the people I follow, it seemed the more I got to know about her, the more I liked her.
That made it all the more surprising when we began to talk more frequently away from Tumblr. Aside from a brief snarky comment left on a post or two, I hadn't talked to ™ much until the Google Wave hype arrived. Wave had loaded my contacts area with primarily Tumblr users I had emailed in the past (even just once, as I think was the case with ™), and it was during one of those moments when I was trying to figure out what exactly the big deal was with that otherwise useless second email site that we noticed we were online at the same time.
™ suggested we use AIM instead, to which I replied that I didn't think I had one—or at least never used it. But I learned. And then I was introduced to Pidgin. And before I knew it, chatting became a more regular activity.
™ would tell you that she had to initiate most of those chats, because she did. I was convinced that she had multiple friends with whom she wanted to talk to and I was starting to monopolize her time, so certainly she must want a day away from me on occasion, right? And I certainly wouldn't want to overstep my boundaries—keeping in mind my rule about not reading too much into internet friendships and all.
But if we chatted less, it was only because we started texting more. And when the texting slowed down, it was only because we started speaking on the phone on a regular basis. And I couldn't forget the exchange of "snail mail" that reminded me why I like to call it "care mail" instead. I had never met anybody online that I ended up having a real, live phone conversation with, so it was all frighteningly new.
And terribly exciting.
♥♥♥
I don't remember exactly when ™ asked, but the question was phrased something along the lines of whether I would have "a problem" with her coming to see me in Chicago. I initially assumed she was suggesting something like having lunch or grabbing a drink during a trip when she was really in Chicago for something else.
But when it became clear that ™ would fly out here and spend not just a few hours, but entire days with me, I was still in disbelief. At first I was nervous about just the very notion of actually meeting somebody I had met over the friendly confines of the internet, but I began warming to the idea very quickly. We had been talking so often and about so many things that it didn't really feel like there was anything I had to be nervous about.
And so ™ suggested coming to visit for New Year's Eve, just after Christmas. My mind began racing to think of the things I would feel obligated to show her during what would be a first trip to Chicago. What was really "must-see" type stuff?
As I tried to convince myself that the only area I felt real pressure about anything with was just finding ways to keep ™ entertained when she came to visit, I found that there was one thing I started to believe I was hiding. It was a potential "dealbreaker" in my mind.
♥♥♥
I haven't written about it much on this blog or elsewhere, really, but life really came to quite the screeching halt back in February 2008 when I was arrested for a DUI. My third, for the record.
After coming to realize that I wasn't going to be able to get out of the arrest, I was fairly certain that I would be going to spend some time in jail for this offense. Somewhat miraculously, I was granted a lengthy probation period instead, sentenced to 240 hours of community service.
But if I was given that option instead of just being thrown behind bars without a second thought, it was most likely due to my having stopped the boozing. My lawyer had told me I was going to need to begin attending AA meetings. I'm sure there's other instances on this blog before that arrest that serve as an example of my drinking to excess as often as I did, but it took the possibility of jail to finally get me to quit. It's somewhat unfortunate that it had to come to that in order for me to make that long overdue change in my life, but ultimately I came to realize what a self-destructive mess I'd become.
To be clear, I had no intention of giving up drinking entirely. Just long enough to convince the court. Even then, I thought maybe I could hide some sips on the side.
But of course that was a lie and a short-lived plan because I'm incapable of sipping. I drink to get drunk. It's the only way I know how to drink, and I don't see the point in not doing so. It's always been that way and always will. There's just no changing it, and believe me, I've tried.
After one more final attempt to hide a late night bottle-chugging session backfired miserably, I began the long white-knuckled stretch of counting the days I was going without as much as a drop of alcohol. In hindsight, it seemed to add up faster than it really felt like it did. But after I survived the first month and realized I could make it through days and nights without getting black-out, pass-out drunk on a nightly basis, I started believing I really was better off without the booze.
The last DUI had left me without the possibility of a license for several years and a mountain of debt that would take even longer to pay off. To most friends or family that had known me all along, the reasons for me quitting drinking were easy to understand.
When meeting anybody new, however, trying to explain that you don't drink anything at all anymore is a little harder to explain. I had begun to assume that the only chance I would have at getting into a relationship with a girl who understood the fatal nature you have to take with alcoholism would be with another girl who hit bottom just as hard as I felt I had.
After coming to realize that I wasn't going to be able to get out of the arrest, I was fairly certain that I would be going to spend some time in jail for this offense. Somewhat miraculously, I was granted a lengthy probation period instead, sentenced to 240 hours of community service.
But if I was given that option instead of just being thrown behind bars without a second thought, it was most likely due to my having stopped the boozing. My lawyer had told me I was going to need to begin attending AA meetings. I'm sure there's other instances on this blog before that arrest that serve as an example of my drinking to excess as often as I did, but it took the possibility of jail to finally get me to quit. It's somewhat unfortunate that it had to come to that in order for me to make that long overdue change in my life, but ultimately I came to realize what a self-destructive mess I'd become.
To be clear, I had no intention of giving up drinking entirely. Just long enough to convince the court. Even then, I thought maybe I could hide some sips on the side.
But of course that was a lie and a short-lived plan because I'm incapable of sipping. I drink to get drunk. It's the only way I know how to drink, and I don't see the point in not doing so. It's always been that way and always will. There's just no changing it, and believe me, I've tried.
After one more final attempt to hide a late night bottle-chugging session backfired miserably, I began the long white-knuckled stretch of counting the days I was going without as much as a drop of alcohol. In hindsight, it seemed to add up faster than it really felt like it did. But after I survived the first month and realized I could make it through days and nights without getting black-out, pass-out drunk on a nightly basis, I started believing I really was better off without the booze.
The last DUI had left me without the possibility of a license for several years and a mountain of debt that would take even longer to pay off. To most friends or family that had known me all along, the reasons for me quitting drinking were easy to understand.
When meeting anybody new, however, trying to explain that you don't drink anything at all anymore is a little harder to explain. I had begun to assume that the only chance I would have at getting into a relationship with a girl who understood the fatal nature you have to take with alcoholism would be with another girl who hit bottom just as hard as I felt I had.
♥♥♥
It wasn't as though I hadn't told ™ about the arrest, or my lack of a license, or the job difficulty I'd been having ever since all the shit had hit the fan. It was just a matter of her knowing that when it came to drinking, I had no exceptions. And considering that I couldn't get over her being nearly a decade younger than me, I feared that this revelation would almost certainly make her change her mind about visiting me.
And so after I dropped that "bombshell," she indeed changed her mind about coming to see me in December.
Now she wanted to come for Thanksgiving too.
Suddenly, I felt like I had nothing else to fear. By disclosing my supposedly dark secret about my drinking problem, I suddenly had nothing else to worry about when—get a load of this—it turned out not to be such a big deal after all.
And so after I dropped that "bombshell," she indeed changed her mind about coming to see me in December.
Now she wanted to come for Thanksgiving too.
Suddenly, I felt like I had nothing else to fear. By disclosing my supposedly dark secret about my drinking problem, I suddenly had nothing else to worry about when—get a load of this—it turned out not to be such a big deal after all.
♥♥♥
™ and I were counting down the days until that Wednesday before Thanksgiving when she'd arrive. My newest item to worry about instead of my misplaced fear about not being able to booze was the holiday dinner with my folks and how my mother would act or what ™ would think of the cooking.
But as was becoming the usual in this relationship, all of my concerns about the evening were pretty much for naught. Everything went fine. Just like most everything else about the five days she was in town for went fine. "Better than I could have asked for" was how I described it afterward.
While there wasn't any snow in Chicago yet for her to enjoy, Lincoln Park Zoo had a holiday lights festival that made for a nice Saturday evening out in addition to the many other lights and decorations around the city. My aunt and uncle had an annual brunch in which ™ was able to pick out and actually cut down a Christmas tree that Sunday. Aside from some shitty service at a sports bar in one of the suburbs near the hotel, most everything we did together was delightful.
I had spent most of the past three years without a license or the job of my dreams and convincing myself how miserable I should be, and suddenly I had a girl of my dreams make all those usual self-pitying items disappear.
But as was becoming the usual in this relationship, all of my concerns about the evening were pretty much for naught. Everything went fine. Just like most everything else about the five days she was in town for went fine. "Better than I could have asked for" was how I described it afterward.
While there wasn't any snow in Chicago yet for her to enjoy, Lincoln Park Zoo had a holiday lights festival that made for a nice Saturday evening out in addition to the many other lights and decorations around the city. My aunt and uncle had an annual brunch in which ™ was able to pick out and actually cut down a Christmas tree that Sunday. Aside from some shitty service at a sports bar in one of the suburbs near the hotel, most everything we did together was delightful.
I had spent most of the past three years without a license or the job of my dreams and convincing myself how miserable I should be, and suddenly I had a girl of my dreams make all those usual self-pitying items disappear.
♥♥♥
As I think back to how that magical five-day span played out, it still seems like something more apt to come out of a dream. It wasn't too long after ™ had returned to Texas that I received a lovely framed picture of the two of us from her with an equally lovely card of thanks.
Ah, care mail.
It was strange because it had been a good number of years since a girl had given me an actual physical copy of a photograph of the two of us. Typically, photos just posted via the internet, on sites like MySpace or Facebook. And then when we broke up, they were gone forever.
But all my preconceived notions about romance and the internet being separate things continued to be disproved during those five days with ™. Whereas so many of the relationships I became involved in found something based on an initial attraction and then a series of discoveries about the other person I didn't like but convinced myself I could live with, it feels as though the more I learned and continue to learn about ™ just make me adore her more. I believed that people who got into relationships through internet connections had more often than not been guilty of embellishing or hiding something, and here I had met somebody online that I had been more honest with right from the outset than anybody I'd ever met in my life.
And whereas I once thought people who claimed to find love over the web were having to convince themselves that they were happy, I have to wonder how often it was actually me trying to convince myself that I was happy when I met somebody in real life when I was really anything but.
I have already sat here and read and re-wrote certain sections of this post many times over, and will almost certainly be likely to re-write parts in the future, I'm sure. This is because to try and effectively summarize how wonderful this little relationship I'm in now with ™ is basically impossible. I can't put this kind of everyday joy into enough words. Or at least not the right ones. Such a post would scroll on endlessly.
I have strayed from posting much of anything of a distinctly personal nature for the longest time on this blog because of how depressing most everything of a personal nature over the past three years has been. Much of that supposed misery is self-inflicted and appropriate punishment. But I finally feel as though now I have something that I'm sure I'll be wanting to share about. So maybe instead of stressing about trying to cram every last detail into this one post, I can take a break from doing sports predictions and get back to occasionally talking about the things actually going on in my life.
If I've learned nothing else over the course of this past year and come to realize during those five days, it's that true love can be found on the internet. The important part to making that happen is being honest with the other person. And before I could ever make that happen, I had to get honest with myself first.
Ah, care mail.
It was strange because it had been a good number of years since a girl had given me an actual physical copy of a photograph of the two of us. Typically, photos just posted via the internet, on sites like MySpace or Facebook. And then when we broke up, they were gone forever.
But all my preconceived notions about romance and the internet being separate things continued to be disproved during those five days with ™. Whereas so many of the relationships I became involved in found something based on an initial attraction and then a series of discoveries about the other person I didn't like but convinced myself I could live with, it feels as though the more I learned and continue to learn about ™ just make me adore her more. I believed that people who got into relationships through internet connections had more often than not been guilty of embellishing or hiding something, and here I had met somebody online that I had been more honest with right from the outset than anybody I'd ever met in my life.
And whereas I once thought people who claimed to find love over the web were having to convince themselves that they were happy, I have to wonder how often it was actually me trying to convince myself that I was happy when I met somebody in real life when I was really anything but.
I have already sat here and read and re-wrote certain sections of this post many times over, and will almost certainly be likely to re-write parts in the future, I'm sure. This is because to try and effectively summarize how wonderful this little relationship I'm in now with ™ is basically impossible. I can't put this kind of everyday joy into enough words. Or at least not the right ones. Such a post would scroll on endlessly.
I have strayed from posting much of anything of a distinctly personal nature for the longest time on this blog because of how depressing most everything of a personal nature over the past three years has been. Much of that supposed misery is self-inflicted and appropriate punishment. But I finally feel as though now I have something that I'm sure I'll be wanting to share about. So maybe instead of stressing about trying to cram every last detail into this one post, I can take a break from doing sports predictions and get back to occasionally talking about the things actually going on in my life.
If I've learned nothing else over the course of this past year and come to realize during those five days, it's that true love can be found on the internet. The important part to making that happen is being honest with the other person. And before I could ever make that happen, I had to get honest with myself first.
1 comment:
This is beautiful. I'm very happy for the two of you.
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