Love & E-mail

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Note: Don't forget to read more about my journey on my personal blog, So about what I said...

It was official: Our clandestine late-night (OK, 7 p.m.) rendezvous had become habitual. Like a slow tango between two wounded souls, a force beyond our control brought us together night after night. In that dark room, he pulled me toward his soft glow. Except for the ticking of the clock and the tiny sliver of moonlight that crept in through the bay window, we were alone. Just the two of us.

We’d been meeting in secret for months, but my stomach still swarmed with butterflies every night. I’d come to like the mystery in our well-orchestrated meetings – how I’d slip on my glasses, how my hands began to shake nervously, how every little move brought us closer together.

The sweet tension in the air was palpable.

I didn’t know much about him, but then again, I didn’t really need to. We never talked about our favorite song or mused about our childhood. I didn’t even know how he liked his coffee, but none of it ever mattered.





I knew this wasn’t me. I surely wasn’t that girl. Yet the sadder part was that maybe the new me didn’t even care because the second our hands met, he had a way of whispering those three little words every woman yearns to hear.

You’ve Got Mail.

The next hour went by in a haze of teeth grinding, nail biting and obsessive use of the backspace key. You’d think I was re-drafting the Declaration of Independence instead of an email that was decidedly anti-independent. I couldn’t reconcile what I’d become, but in my confusion emerged a kernel of truth: Email, it seems, is the new version of feeling out a potential love interest.

Before the days of logging on and hooking up, people courted the old-fashioned way. My grandparents, for one, extended their courtship over the Atlantic during WW II. I imagine them writing long, lengthy personal prose in long script filled with words like forever and eternally yours. Maybe my grandmother even scented her letters with perfume to add that special touch.

Deep and meaningful phones conversations once ran late into the night where giggles mingled with blushed cheeks.

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