A letter, #6

I don’t really want to acknowledge you by writing to you, but I am justifying it by saying it is because I had a really lovely interaction with someone yesterday and the circumstances of the interaction were too eerily similar to the first interaction we had to ignore. Let’s just hope that a) I have learned to take these kinds of things with a substantial grain of salt, and b) that this person is not a total fucking jerk, like you.

In hindsight, you look like just as big of an asshole as you did following the initial reveal of your rectal-craneal inversion, but I can also see the benefits of our interactions now. I did learn that a repartee as dynamic and cohesive as ours was likely to be only that. Seriously, you are like the Sun Tzu of conversation. Sadly, I had hoped you would be the Lao Tzu… but no need to go into ancient Chinese philosophy to make my point.

In the midst of a busy day, I received a lovely note from a stranger – southerly located as well, I fear. Among a lot of other comments and feedback of similar nature this one stood out because it was not only on point intellectually, but because it managed to strike out the perfect chords of flattery for me – not everyone understands the sorts of compliments that might make me go weak in the knees (present knee condition aside.) But this brief missive hit them all.

It was strange how instinctively I felt compelled to reply to the comment. And as I started to I was overwhelmed with a deja-vu so powerful (even more so than spending two nights in the home of my childhood and adolescence earlier this week) that I had to pause.

What was it?

Fuck me. It was you. It all came back.

This time I laughed out loud rather than get all angsty.

You came up in another conversation not that long ago, you know? It was quite hilarious really. The thing is, a friend of mine (who I met via an internet friend, ironically – or not, I don’t know) in LA was telling me a story of an absolutely hideous date. Well, it was hideous in terms of its inability to come to fruition more than anything else (you see?) The funny thing about this is that, earlier in the week, pre-date, she had contacted me to be sure the date in question was not You.


Why would she do that? Well, do let me explain. In full. I feel that the story has far more gravitas that way. I began blogging (aha! How you and I met!) because of a woman, we’ll call C, while I was in Hong Kong. I am ever grateful to C for a number of things, but the public discourse impetus stands far and above many. C and I became acquainted, thusly, and actually never IRL, as they say until last spring – more than three years after the fact. Anyhow, I eventually became internet friends with a friend of C’s, who we’ll call M. C and M knew each other IRL, but had met as a result of the interwebs. And cats. But that is definitely another story. In getting to know M, who I met IRL way before I met C – quien sabe – it turns out that one of her old college friends is the woman you told me was your BFF.


Anyhow, it does seem to be that you and your BFF are less BF and more maybe like “f”. Regardless, the BfF in question had connected M and her “date”, at which point M wanted to be sure that the Date was not You, as M is acutely aware of the douchbaggery of your past actions. Obviously, the Date was not You, but the fact that we thought it could be was hilarious. You are a wee bit famous after all, even if it is not for patenting pre-bio-fuels. In the end, we just decided that BfF is not a girl whose male friends one should deal with if possible. Did you ever think that your BfF would enter into my circle like that? Yeah, I know you didn’t, and I cannot tell you what great pleasure I take in knowing that.


So, today as I reread the sentiments I so enjoyed receiving yesterday I still am happy to consider them, but I am careful to maintain context and tell myself that pleasant interactions are not necessarily indicative of anything more than that, kindred spirits or otherwise. And I suppose I have you to thank for that. I also am aware that you are still stalking this blog (more than 100 times in the last quarter? Wow.) So it is likely that you will eventually read this and maybe you to will take something new away from it. You are not a horrible person – you’re just a sad little man. Like the Wizard of Oz. Only less altruistic and with an ego that even fire and flame and the Emerald City would not satiate. (Ooh, look at that, I passively insulted you in my attempt to mitigate my earlier name-calling. Ooops.)

And that is why I sat down to write this letter to you today.


a x

About Amanda

I am repatriating expatriate trying to work it all out. Well, to work some of it out anyhow. I am writing here for sanity, focus and general over-sharing.
This entry was posted in Absurd Shit, Friends, Letters to Friends, Relationships, true stories and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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