This was the first email I sent to my boy waaaayyy back when.
Subject: Your profile
It’s just about perfect. Funny, smart, even more funny, a bit idiotic, clever, totally original and… well, really impressive. I loved it…what a delight you are.
I hope you find what you are looking for. I expect that profile will attract the right attention, hopefully in the right location.
A flurry of emails followed after his cute and very funny reply. This is an extract from one that I sent some 3 weeks later:
I don’t know, of course, what will happen with you, to you, but I do love feeling that curiosity and connection with someone else, that communication where you want to lean forward to listen more closely and you are watching their eyes, mouth, eyes, mouth and you nod a lot and you watch their mouth, where the online equivalent is reading and re-reading someone’s thoughts, and feeling something… an understanding, an intimacy, a knowing. It’s rare.
With you, there is that something, your words get into my head and I play with them, and I swirl them around, and I savour the taste of them like they are on my tongue, and as I write that it sounds ridiculous, but that’s how it feels. The anticipation of knowing, hoping, knowing that I will get more makes me salivate in a most unseemly manner, and when I get some snippet that fires a trigger (the sweaty-ripped-pants, the purple showering, the pantyhose, the shy, the body writing…), I let it run in my head unchecked for a while, wild at first, all over the place until it finds a story, a rhythm, a picture that pleases me and I play that over and over before I have to get it out.
For me, *that* is what ‘zing zing’ feels like…