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by Pam Widener
“Dear Whoever You Are,” I wanted to respond. “What have you done with the man I was with last night? The one who made me promise that I would make love to him within the next 24 hours? The one who was felled by my ‘defenseless eyes and reluctant smile’? Where are you holding that man? I’ll negotiate his release.”
Instead, I dug my own grave. I peeled myself off the bed and composed email number 112. “Dearest S.,” I wrote, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t devastated.” Instead of playing it cool, I came totally clean.
“Last night, when I arrived at the lounge, I saw you and began to fall in love with you,” I typed. I sent two more similar emails into the irretrievable realm of his inbox before I realized he wasn’t going to respond. (Perhaps he had decided that silence was the most gracious option.) That week, I was forced to acknowledge that, although he’d revealed a lot about himself in his 60 emails, there was obviously much more that he hadn’t. I also learned that I was hopelessly incapable of reading between the lines.
Long came Winter again, and with it a comfort level that made me a bit, well, uncomfortable. I had come far enough in my epistolary output (432 emails) that I was finally beginning to run out of literary steam. I began to self-plagiarize, pasting descriptions of myself from old emails into new ones. (To my credit, I was often upfront about it.) My literary flair still seemed to be effective, but I was starting to feel ashamed of my Internet persona— the one that was clinging so tenaciously to the possibilities of this realm, despite all evidence that a fantasy is just that. After all this time, I no longer felt that giddy knot of expectation in my stomach at the sight of a new message in my inbox.
A few weeks after my one-year anniversary, I received a note from a photographer who’d recently found himself single after two long-term relationships. I was the first woman he’d contacted through the personals. After a few spotty emails, he chose to call me. “I’m really not good at email,” he said. “I’m more of a talker.”
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1 Mario // Jul 25, 2008 at 3:21 pm
This was great!!!
I was thinking a lot about Personals. I never knew which way to go so I always tried to ‘keep it real’ and try to meet people on the 3-d world! :p
it’s still hard for me with the few people I mail and that don’t live close to me, but with a few I’ve developed great sentiments of empathy and the rest, I would like to meet them in person now.
I’ve dated online before. One advice: keep it real all the time (even one friend taught me that through our endless corresponse), although, it’s always difficult to say if you’re going to have ‘chemistry’ once you meet each other in person!!
Well, anyways, great article. Good to know I’m not the only one who goes through this!!
Thanks!!
2 Regard Your Date As A Serial Killer // May 5, 2008 at 11:48 am
[…] There are some clear dos and don’ts when it comes to online dating. […]
3 Patricia // May 16, 2007 at 4:47 am
The article was discouraging. I think it’s all a numbers game whether it be online or in the real world. The more people you meet, the better your chances of finding someone with whom you’ll click.
4 Jennifer // Apr 16, 2007 at 10:10 am
I must admit, I finally gave into the whole internet dating scene a year and a half ago at 35 and never married. I was unwilling to get the thow backs at the bar scene, and I wasn’t exactly having to rehinge my front door from guys beating it down. It completely stressed me out! However, I met who I THOUGHT was The One. Well, I’m about to turn 37, cancelling wedding plans. Thank you, dear GOD that I did not actually move the date up and take a job to relocate as he was pushing me to do. Easy come, easy go — NEXT! Laissez les bon temps rouler (soon, I hope).
5 Adonya // Apr 9, 2007 at 11:23 pm
I can’t believe I can actually relate to this story on several levels.
I’ve been dating online more off than on since 1999. I’ve met some nice men, and I’ve also met some jerks. One of the reasons why I prefer online dating to the bar scene is I get to invest quality time (right from start) in weeding out the bad eggs. You can’t really do that in a bar. Once the alcohol kincks in, EVERYONE starts looking good.
Thanks for the wonderful article!!!!
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