I’ve had a personal ad on mygaydar.com for some time now, but guys there seem to conform to a less voluptuous, almost emaciated, and certainly less furry physical type than catches my eye, so I don’t check my messages there very often. When I logged on in January, after an absence of several months, there was a message from a stunningly beautiful man saying he was visiting SF in December and wanted to meet me for tea, that he was interested in getting to know me. You know, my idea of a stunningly beautiful man—plump and hairy, with deep dark wells for eyes. Well, he was back in Arabia(!) by the time I got his note, but I responded anyway, and he wrote back to say that he was moving to San Francisco in a few weeks!
We’ve been virtually inseparable since. That is, united by digital streams of information and longing but not proximity. He’s smart and sweet and effusive. His behavior sometimes reminds me of the subconscious that I try to keep contained—his spills out at my feet, no mediation between desire and expression. He might not be real yet, but his intensity, thoughtfulness, and affection are realer than anything I’ve experienced in my life.
But wait, my Foreign Correspondent lives on the other side of the world, we don’t really know each other, and love is determined by such subtleties of attraction, and those subtleties are contingent on actually meeting and touching and interacting directly, right? and whatchyoutalkinbout love for, Willis? I want to blurt out “Come live with me and be my love And we will all the pleasures prove” but I restrain myself—well, okay, maybe not too restrained—but knowing that my feelings are intensified by my longing, my desire to be with someone like him, but that who he is isn’t knowable yet.
But I won’t restrain myself with you, dear reader… I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love with a won-der-ful guy!!! …I mean, “I should be singing that I think I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love I’m in love with a potentially won-der-ful guy!” Could happiness fall into my lap so effortlessly? Could he really be the one that I’ve been waiting for my entire life? Who knows, we might not be each other’s cup of tea when we actually meet…
Who am I kidding? There’s no way that we won’t fall in love.
I try to keep things in perspective, like these feelings of love for someone who’s only a jpeg and a voice and a few words. I mean, we don’t know each other yet. But he’s different from the rest. Did I ever think I’d say that? Haven’t I seen all the movies where the guys they say that about end up truly not being different except that they’re psychopaths? He isn’t different, actually—different from the rest, yes, but he’s like me. This is what excites me so. Somebody like me.
Here’s an excerpt from a recent note from him:
I can’t control it anymore, i can not be for anyone but you, Habibi… I love each single thing in you… Babe, i am not afraid to tell you that you have me all of me… You own my fantazies now when i am alone soon you will own the reality of my life.
Could you believe, dear reader, that I am the object of this beautiful man’s affection? Are you as excited as I? His lowercase i’s are just adorable. I certainly hope we like each other, I mean, after already falling in love.
Stay tuned, and fasten your seatbelts!