I’ve got mail
“Life has a funny way of creeping up on you when you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right; and life has a funny way of helping you out when think everything’s gone and everything blows up in your face” Ironic – Allanis Morissette
Once again my life and emotions were under my complete control. My manager’s vacation had put a pause on my career’s frustrations; my mother’s good behaviour released some of the pent up tension and I was finally beginning to pay the deserved attention to my little brother and my friends. For over two weeks I’ve been looking over my shoulder, expecting something to go wrong and just as I let my guard down… I get mail!
“He commented on almost all my entries, you’ll recognise his opinions as the longest ones posted… we’ve been chatting a lot lately, I know you’ll just love to meet him”
Oh yeah! Here we go again! Another wise ass internet surfer who knows how to copy-paste good writing from the books on Amazon and spends his time “rescuing” the women who spend their time on the Internet because they have no one else to spend their time with…
No thanks! One xciting adventure is enough in a girl’s lifetime! I especially don’t like making the same mistake twice. But being as stubborn as my good friend is, it didn’t surprise me that I got mail from you. What did surprise me though, is what kept me from replying a quick “hi, hello, I’m busy, thanks for writing, but my friend has probably more time for you than I do”.
Sent: lksbdklijdhs kdvs
Oh great! Another virus! How is that I receive one of these at least twice a day?
With a devilish grin, it occurred to me that a virus might just be the solution to the mountain of paperwork that needed filing. But I shook that idea when I realised that the work that required a functioning computer was of a much higher priority. It was the subject line that kept me from pressing the delete button: Hello Sunshine.
You described yourself as someone who had no shame in sending a stranger an e-mail two pages long as an introductory. The fact that you’d written to me listening to an old but really great song intrigued me. However, it was when you began referring to my column that my attention focused completely on your words.
When there are few of them, you find it hard to believe that they exist… emotionally intelligent people! The kind that you pray will cross your path and share opinions and ideas with you. It isn’t bad enough that there are so few of these men, but most of them are just bags of hot air. They repeat the words that they know will obtain the desired results from the person they’re trying to convince, of emotions they wish they could feel but haven’t the courage to assume. Most intelligent men don’t have the courage of their convictions and this was one of the insinuations I sent you on reply.
Expecting fierce denial or perhaps a whole analyses declaring that I was anti-male and needed to trust more in people; you took me once again by surprise when you thanked me for not generalising and giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Impressed couldn’t describe how you left me with the reply mail you sent me. The careful attention you had obviously given to reading the entries my friend and I and wrote and the compliments you paid us would without a doubt make you the highest paid tutor if men around the world knew that you found the secret to understanding a woman. You managed to discover more about me from a couple of e-mails than some of my closest friends who still have a lot to learn about what makes me tick. Leaving me feeling emotionally violated, I couldn’t help but make it quite clear than neither my friend nor I needed any “rescuing” and concluded that focusing on emotional soft spots was your battle technique. But as if you’d read my mind, you quickly explained that defenceless females were far from the picture you painted of us and the mere idea was exhausting and unattractive.
I couldn’t hide my smile after hearing your voice and admitting that curiosity got the better of me, I ignored my better judgement and added you on my MSN. The planned 15 minutes extended to two hours and probably would’ve extended longer if the both of us didn’t have to leave. Your picture couldn’t hide the piercing eyes I knew you’d have. Cautiousness reminded me that I could already place a face and a voice to your name. Intuition told me that you probably would become another of those good friends that I could always be direct and sincere with. On a second window I updated my best friend on the last three days:
“I met my twin! He thinks just like me… is there something you and mom want to tell me?”
“LOL, don’t look at me! But maybe you should ask your mother!”
“Hahahaha… very funny Dad! But seriously, it’s refreshing to exchange ideas with someone who’s on the same wavelength. Or at least he seems to be, so far there’s no ancestry link to Casanova or xcyte. I’m having a really hard time trying to find a reason to log off and block his address.
“I give him another 5 minutes”
“LOL, thanks Dad, but I sense this one will take a bit longer to disappoint me”
“In that case, tell me about it in about two or three weeks.”
Experience reassured my abilities on keeping you behind the screen and so I switched off the computer content that I’d made another amazing addition to my list of special friends. I didn’t think about you again until after I watered my aunt’s plants and sat down to dinner. Wrapping my legs beneath me, I picked at my food with one hand whilst I held the 5-page story you mailed me in the other. Promising to send you my honest opinion, I read it with my full concentration. My hand began to shake before I got through the first page. The story seemed to have been stolen from one of my many daydreams; the words you used were identical to my vocabulary and if it had been written in English, I would’ve sworn that it had been something that I wrote.
The description, the emotions, the vocabulary and even the style called out to me. Before I’d even turned the page, I dropped the pages, stood up and circled the table like someone who had lost her mind, never taking my eyes off the black ink. Insane! If every book had this reaction on me, I would need therapy each time I bought a new one! Summoning the courage and slapping myself out the trance, I began reading more of the text. Instinctually one hand covered my mouth whilst the other ran through the paragraphs. I tried not to feel ashamed when a tear rolled down my face. Everything and nothing made sense once I got to the end of the story. Shock was followed by panic and I couldn’t resist finding out how much of the truth was in that story.
“So where were you until this hour”
“Take a wild guess”
“On the pier again huh? You know you really shouldn’t be out there until this hour on your own!”
“There were plenty of tourists sitting at the coffee shops! Besides I wasn’t alone, I was talking to the ocean. The onlookers either thought I was crazy or I was in with the latest in blue tooth wireless phone technology”
“Hahaha, you must’ve had a lot on your mind then!”
“Yes I did, I met someone captivated my attention and got me thinking”
“Seriously? Is there finally someone who stands a chance with you?”
“Hahaha… nope, lives too far away and met him over the Internet. But if destiny is kind, I’ll probably have a great friend for life”
“You sure? Planes and cars make the world small these days”
“I’m certain. Things only go as far as people allow them to.”
When you least expect it, the winds of fate introduce you to people who renovate your ideas and change your life. My job flew in a cowboy, which made me dance with a Chronis, who inspired a Clairvoyant to send me mail. Before I fall asleep tonight, I will thank my guardian angels for my family, my friends and all the special people who have crossed my path. I take this opportunity to remind my readers that the Olympics would be pointless if no one was watching and cheering the Athletes on. Although I overcame life’s obstacles on my own, there was always a friend on the sideline with a redbull, giving me my wings when I thought that I was no longer able to get over another hurdle. Consider this my thanks for the advice, the hand or the shoulder offered; may this column do the same for you. And to those of you who still haven’t understood this entry, please go check your mail.