I'm Not a Blowfish

I once had a man send me a text wherein he said his loins ached for me. Whether there was or wasn't any aching going on, I can’t say. I wasn’t there, and I had no desire to find out.

With the advent of email and text messages, there is a level of communication taking place that’s much like the communication that transpires after a few cocktails have had their chance to coat the tongue; loquacious and without restraint. 

In this particular case, my loins weren’t aching. And as this was a friend, I couldn’t imagine how the commingling of loins would benefit the relationship in any way, shape or form. Tactfully and lightheartedly I declined. Within the thirty-four text messages that followed, he played every card in the deck. He coaxed. He used reverse psychology (obviously thinking nothing gets a woman into bed faster than calling her too chicken to do so. Note to men: it doesn't work). He tempted with vivid imagery (private beach under a moonlit sky). Ultimately, he grew upset and I grew tired. I have only so much ‘nice’ in me, and he pretty much used it all.  Finally, he resorted to calling me a blowfish. This is when the conversation ended.

The unexpected onset of the conversation and subsequent turn it took, unsettled me tremendously. Had he not been a friend, I would’ve been done by text number two, but I cared for this person. Misguidedly, I thought he cared too. Our relationship has been nearly nonexistent ever since.

As the number of singles in their forties, fifties, and sixties enters the dating world, there is a whole new element of communication with which one must learn. Some look down upon emails, focusing solely on the technology behind them which feels cold and impersonal. In many ways however, they’re as close as we’ve gotten to the hand penned messages of old. A sacred possession of mine is a small stack of letters shared between two souls very much in desperate love with one another. As these are from the turn of the century, the words and code of conduct stands in bright contrast to today’s world. But they fascinate me, and the emotion displayed on those fragile pages are the same one’s felt today. 

Sadly words expressed so thoroughly and deeply are seldom shared nowadays. In fact, more than once I’ve had to Google the meaning behind a newly received acronym received on my cell phone. Its a peculiar thing living in a world where something as beautiful as “I love you,” can be expressed using the code: 143 or 831. Its true that technology is constantly changing, but human emotion remains the same.

Sane