I just mutually (though heartbreakingly) ended a gorgeous summer romance. We resided in different cities, lived different lives, but shared a few things in common that connected us intellectually & emotionally over the course of about 5 months: 1) the internet. 2) the text message.
We met on Mypace.
Meaning that somehow, we were connected as myspace friends. She was heading to San Francisco to do a photo shoot and was looking into her friend's list for people she 'knew' who lived in SF, apparently. The first thing she said to me was through a myspace comment. It said 'hello random myspace friend.' I sent back a message telling her some places to check out which escalated to my roommate and I showing her around the city all day. I didn't mind, though. She was pretty cute. That night, we dressed her up in drag and tall boys and hauled her to a burlesque show. We did our bay area duty and gave her the SF treatment: got her drunk, dressed her up, pushed her out of her comfort zone, then sent her on her way. I didn't see her again until I traveled to Seattle in April.
--
Dating in the technology age is different. By different, I mean different than the last time I was 'dating'. It took me about a year after leaving my 4-year relationship to really actively start 'dating'. Which meant the last time I 'dated' was 5 years ago... converted into technological years is about ... carry the 1.... 25 years. 25 years!!
The rules have changed. For example, there's no '3 day rule' anymore. Texting has killed it. Text has also killed the ability to judge when to send a 'follow up' text, because you don't actually know if the first one ever made it. Texting (known in the geek world as SMS) is an non-guaranteed protocol. It just spins it out into the web, not caring whatsoever that you've just thrown your self esteem into the black, unforgiving hole of cyberspace.
Which places you in a very awkward predicament.
For example, what if you ask someone out over text? First off, don't do this. Even if they claim they are part of 'generation-text' and prefer text over a phone call. I repeat, do not do this. Here's why: You may not get an answer right away. And then what? How long should you wait before sending another text? And then, what the fuck should you say?? 'Um, hello... anyone? Didn't you get my text asking you out?' Lets say you do that and the second one gets there before the first one. Then you're all pissy because they didn't answer you and they see that you're impatient and insecure so forget about actually having a date. What's lame is, you have to send the second text, because if you don't, the first one is just hanging out there forever. And then if there's two hanging out there, you're even MORE of a schmuck. When they run into in person (which they always do) then they'll know you're the passive moron who was dumb enough to ask them out over text. Twice.
The problem is, there's no etiquite for when you should be sent a response. Even an 'I'm thinking about it' kind of response would be nice. Something like 'hey, lemme make sure my girlfriend is going out of town and then I'll get back to you'.
The same rules apply for non-dating situations. I've learned recently that you should not ask to borrow things via text message. (I still do it). Because instead of saying 'no, you fuckwad, get out of my face!', they just don't answer. I hate that.
Ok, if you have to ask someone out over text (because, say, the end of their phone is a computer and doesn't answer calls) then here's a tip: engage them in conversation first, so you know they are actively answering their messages. Once you have done so, then ask them out. This doesn't always work, however. Once, even after using this trick, I was still hung out to dry for about 12 hours before being rejected. I mean, fucks sake. Why torture me? If you're gonna say no, please do me a favor and put me out of my misery right away.
So apparently there IS etiquette in how & when you should contact the person after a date. I learned that the hard way, too. A few months ago, on the Monday after a very enjoyable date, I was chillin' on my couch vegging out to my Netflix when I decided to 'follow up' with said enjoyable date via a text message. Apparently that approach was too aloof, because later, when we became friends, she informed me of my error. She looked at me and shook her head, sighing, 'you sent me a text.' Fail.
--
At least with my long-distance summer romance, we had no choice but to text message after our first date, which happened back in April as I was cruising through Portland after a few gigs in Seattle. Our evening was cute and slightly awkward, and I wasn't even sure if it was a date until I asked her directly. She said 'yesh' and paid the bill (how old-fashioned of her).
After that, our friendship texts were laced with flirtation. Then one day a text came in that read something like this: 'What are you wearing?' This line is fun and familiar. I told her what my outfit comprised of. But then, she changed the nature of our flirtation with one quick line.
'Take it off,' it said.
I had been to first base via text before. And second, sure. But all the way?? Never seemed necessary, given that I was home and undressed before I rounded third. But this! This was different. This was not a means to an end. I had no way of knocking on her door except in the depths of my imagination. This was sexting for the pure joy of the sext itself.. this was a story. Any story. Any place that our minds would dare to go. Any island, any office building, any treehouse, any car scenario; any age, any identity and most delightfully, any gender.
Which revealed a whole new realm of possibility for me, a writer of the dirtiest degree. This was a doorway into a new world; a land laced with the power of my infinite imagination. And when I swung open the passage to the promise of those lands, who did I find chained to the leather couch, holding out handcuffs and a glass of wine, but this perverted pisces, whose days of dreaming were here to whip my rhyme of realism into her most devout pleasures.
My phone was blowin' up after that. I'm pretty sure we knocked my service offline after the first time. Seriously. The day after our first session, my phone stopped working for about 24 hours because Verizon investigated it under suspicions of 'cloning'.
Not to be restricted by the limitations of cellular networks, I signed up for another toy that is most necessary when conducting long-distance romantic relations: twitter. Now, not only could we tease each other over text, but we could toss secret messages t@ each other, duping our friends in the process. Plus, and this is the important part, we could see more of what the other was doing\thinking on a day-to-day basis. Really. We could actively participate in each other's lives on an hour-to-hour, albeit minute-to-minute basis if we wanted to, even 589 miles away.
Twitter is revolutionary. It is truly changing reality. Not only is there finally a place for all the one-liners that pop into my head to go, but now sometimes people actually listen & respond right back @me. Its amazing. It really draws people in, as if you are sitting right next to each other, passing the salt across the table. Not only to your friends and family, but to celebrities. I can read where Ashton Kutcher is having dinner & what Pink thought of her concert in Australia the night before -- in real time. Samantha Ronson & Linsday Lohan conduct their lesbionic liaison in one-lined love letters that start with the symbol: @. Its Bloody Brilliant.
And Addictive. Seriously addictive. During the work day, I started calling the internet 'check-up' of my fascinating friend my 'smoke break'.
By this time, we were virtually dating. Soon I was being 'friended' (yes, that's a word now) by her friends, girls who only really knew me through photo albums and @ symbols. I could cruise videos of their weekends and drunken comments to each other. It seems strange, but it worked. I really had an idea of what was going on in her life; and her in mine.
My sext partner became my actual lover after she was called again to San Francisco for another photo shoot. This was a turning point weekend where our digital connection transfered to an emotional connection. This is when we found that we had much more in common than possession of a telephone and a facebook account. We were both in similar places in our lives, isolating ourselves in order to accomplish life goals & needing to break through some fears regarding intimacy. We both dished out dry humor so bizarre that we were generally the only ones listening closely enough to be amused. And we both understood that one can actually survive on musical genius alone. And though the stories we made up for ourselves were hot and hilarious, the reality of our tangible time together was far more fulfilling than I would have dared to imagine.
Despite her text-loving tendencies, she called me one morning to deliver the bad news. She couldn't do it anymore. Being apart physically was too hard and we would have to let go. I knew the moment she said it that it was right. She was starting back into school and had to concentrate. And I had a whole new city to find within' it my place. Despite our distance, we were too distracting. Enchantingly, creatively, passionately, deliciously distracting. The kind of distracting that could only be healthy as a short-lived summer fling.
We would have one more weekend together. It wasn't until the last day of that weekend that we started our disconnect, pulling the plug on the three things that kept us part of each others' mundane. We removed ourselves from the other's facebook friends list, as well as our shared friends (otherwise, you could still see status updates). We erased each other's phone numbers. And we 'unfollowed' ourselves and our friends on twitter. It was excruciating. I dropped her off at the airport on Monday morning, and cried myself to work.
Sitting in front of my computer, it took me less than an hour to realize that I could still see her facebook updates from her myspace page. She even synced her twitter to it for a hot minute until I'm guessing she figured out the same. Now, as I ween myself off this daily obsession, we're reduced to very censored and limited status updates and mood icons. Which I am grateful for. I wasn't ready to quit cold-turkey, even though, eventually, it is for the best. While my online wife is beautiful, and fascinating and entertaining, and I would take nothing of our time together back, we have to let go of what we meant to each other at this place, in this time, so that we are truly ready when we click the 'Add as Friend' button once again.
--
sent from my iPhone
