To continue from the last post: The “perfect” man I was exchanging emails with told me his last name and ignored the question regarding his date of birth. The last name was so generic that I couldn’t really find definite answers about him.
The feeling that I was talking to some kind of impostor intensified.
Because I am impatient and impulsive. Because I cannot wait for things to happen. Because I follow my gut. Because I am so honest it hurts. Because it was late at night and my bed was painfully empty. For so many reasons I sent him the following email:
“In bed thinking of you…
The you that I created out of desperation and fear
Fearless me feared you would never come
So I created you
I created someone that would magically know how awesome I am
Someone that would appreciate my beauty without knowing what I look like
I created someone caring, intelligent, polite, funny.
I created someone to be my strength when I feel weak
I created someone to be my fan, supporter, confidant and lover
I created someone that wants me as much as I want him
I created someone not perfect, but perfect for me
The problem with desperate creations is that they one day end
Someone once told me that they thought I didn’t think myself worth of love as I seemed to push people that liked me away and seemed to go for impossible situations.
This here is an impossible situation.
You are not real. You don’t exist. I know it.
Still I dream about you every night as giving up on the fairy tale is not an option.
I know this is not real. I know you are not real.”
Of course 5 minutes later I had already regretted sending it. My intent was to tell him that I knew he was a fake and that I was emailing with him not because he was fooling me but because of my forever search for that special one. So even thought I knew he was a fake I continued emailing making room that one millionth to one chance that he could be the real thing.
I expected that he would do one of the following:
1) Reply as usual
2) Try to convince me how real he is
3) Never write again
After not writing for one day, he continued writing as if all was fine. He continued giving me updates on his father’s stay at the hospital. He continued telling me how amazing and supportive I am.
I never replied again.
“Silence is sometimes the best answer” – Dalai Lama
I am still curious as to what was his endgame. What was his aim, or was he just happy emailing? Was just the daily morsel of attention he craved? I can’t blame him.
I am not even mad at him, or frustrated or sad. This is internet, this is craigslist’s territory so I am totally prepared and not surprised. Buyer beware! Each person that turns out not to be the one is bringing me one step closer to the right one, so I I don’t get discouraged.
I know some things one cannot search for. Some things the more you search for the more elusive it becomes. To me stopping the search means giving up. Plus I enjoy the attention and entertainment. I enjoy how much I get to learn about myself. I enjoy meeting people that otherwise I would never cross paths with. I enjoy being pro-active. I enjoy putting myself out there. It makes me feel alive.
“Choose to be optimistic, it feels better.” – Dalai Lama