This is my personal tale of Internet Romance. You know--the phenomenon where a geek living in New Jersey hits it off with another geek in Walla-Walla and eventually they meet, get married and live geekily-ever-after? Internet Romance is not to be confused with the various incarnations of Internet Sex which appeal only to the prurient interest and, as we've all been copiously warned, will be responsible for the downfall of Civilization As We Know It. I'm talking about a real emotional and intellectual connection between two individuals via the magic of email.
He was a dashing young webmaster. Me? I was hanging out with a computer, a modem, and entirely too much time on my hands. I wrote him an email saying how much I liked his page. He wrote back to me--thoughtfully--like he actually read my message. And then the conversation began.
It turned personal slowly. But before too long, this strange man became my unseen friend. I felt we could discuss anything. And we did--religion, music, writing, family, loneliness, death--life.
We wrote behind the backs of the people who frequented his bulletin board. It happened because some chick (far as we could tell) was posting declarations of undying love to the webmaster. She wrote to me asking about him after he publicly defended me when another writer flamed me. I said little to her except that he was a cool guy who seemed shy with women, but I told him that the girl was truly interested. It didn't work out. In fact it got downright twisted when someone posted harrassing messages to the poor girl falsely attributed to my email friend. To this day, I can't figure that one out. He managed to set everything straight, but I still felt hopelessly in the middle even though I hadn't done anything. I vowed never to play the role of Internet Yenta again. It was then that my email friend and I started discussing this funny thing called love.
Around the end of January, stressed from work and lack of light and warmth, I realized I had a crush on my email friend. I might have even "flirted" a bit (but it's difficult to "see" hair twisting and lip licking in print, even one's own). The "sound" of his voice in my in-box was warm, intellectual and sincere. The only sound in my marriage seemed to be the screaming of attention seeking toddlers. My husband tried, but I went inside my computer and shut out the din. And I felt cared-about. I knew it wasn't Real, but it was as real as I wanted it to be.
Husband knew. I told him as soon as I realized--honesty is the best policy and all that. We joked about it and I always tried to keep a balanced perspective.
Unfortunately, that's not how it felt. I felt I was keeping secrets from both husband and email man. I recognized my pattern of once again falling in love with a charismatic man who was NOT my husband (I'm married, not dead, ya know).
Though I'm loyal to my husband, the feeling burned and tore me apart. The day before Valentine's Day, I knew I had to tell the truth for my own integrity. But how? And when?
I finally reached the point of asking my email man straight out if he Really liked me or whether it was just an "electronic thang." I needed assurance. Were we friends or keypals? He wrote back a poetic reply which affirmed my hopes and through steely tears and real sobs, I sat down and wrote the truth. The time had arrived.
I wrote that there was nothing I could do about it (being loyal to my marriage) but that I Loved Him. I told him I was crying for what could never be and probably shouldn't be. I confessed that I felt foolish about the whole thing, too. I wrote as well, as thoroughly and as beautifully as I possibly could. I wanted him to feel my love--and my pain. I clicked on "send" and mailed him my heart.
He wrote back the most sonorous and sensitive letter I have ever received in my life. He wisely and tenderly rejected the notion of dropping all and flying to each other, as had I, but somehow, his letter managed to make me feel better about myself and consequently better about my marriage, my art, and my life. I felt I had not loved unwisely. I felt cared-for and safe. It was enough. But it was not without pain.
Since then, I've been paying more attention to my husband and it's paid off in the revival of our friendship and love. Email man has found a Real girlfriend and they now live together. Though he still writes, the letters are short and to the point. We occasionally share a joke or a URL but there is no longer time for the long meanderings and reflections of personal vision. It's not personal. He just has someone else there--in reality-- with whom he can share those things. It is one of the price tags attached to True Love, of which I would never begrudge him. Besides, I already have mine. It just needed dusting.
I was sad for a while, but not for too long. Once in a while, I miss him, but it passes quickly. She's a lucky woman, his girlfriend, and maybe, just maybe I played a miniscule part in teaching this man how to reach out and take a chance. Maybe not, but I surely learned a thing or two.
