I swore I’d never use online dating again to find my “perfect match.” But once again, I ventured into the virtual world of dating.
As I prepared to move to a new city, a new life, I began to fear being in a new place, feared being alone — though being alone hadn’t really bothered me before. So a bit bored one night, as a little girl might peruse the pages of a toy catalog, I studied the selection of available men who lived in a certain town in Texas.
And then I found him . . . Nick. What attracted me? His dark, mysterious, even mischievous eyes. His sly smile that told me there was a bit of naughtiness hidden there. His profile used the word “authentic,” as did mine. He talked about a deep, penetrating kind of love. Penetrating. I like that word.
Our communication began in the typical “proper” fashion, talking about our past relationships, our interests, what we did for a living, our families. You know, the safe stuff.
But slowly, slowly, each of us dropped little hints in our emails, revealing our sensuality, if not our sexuality. Words like penetrate, potent, vulnerable. Here are just a few of the sentences Nick wrote in emails me:
NICK: “There are cures that involve touch that can also sweeten a night.”
ME: Sweeten a night–those words sent pulses of passion through me.
NICK: “Been reading some of The Great Gatsby and a philosophical book called Monogamy by Adam Phillips, and an excellent book called Mating in Captivity by Esther Perel.”
ME: Mating in Captivity–ah, sounded a bit naughty.
I call it “tiptoeing through our sexuality,” and only days after reading his emails with passages such as these, I took (for me) a great risk and sent him a story . . . a fantasy.