Blowfish!

I made it a practice not to make first contact.  I'd struggled with my self-image my entire life and just when I'd finally gotten to the place where I thought I was okay (yeah, better late than never!) the last thing I needed was some man telling me in so many words, "thanks, but no thanks."

I was quite flattered when one morning I received a very sweet email from an extremely good-looking gentleman.  I mean, this man was movie-star cute!  He had a wonderful smile and his blue eyes sparkled. Yes, sparkled! His profile picture showed him to be well-built with chiseled features and a full head of gorgeous white hair, which seemed incongruous with his overall youthful appearance but nonetheless assured me that he was, in fact, within my age range.  I wasted no time in replying.  :)

He wrote back almost immediately and in the days that followed we corresponded several times a day.  I learned that he was a widower, owned his own import business, lived in a huge house in the country (big income, big house, he confided - yes, that's verbatim,) and had a nineteen-year-old son that lived abroad.  He lived in Canada and travelled extensively.  Hmmm.....Canada.  I like Canada....

I finally worked up the nerve to ask him what I had been wondering since we started corresponding.  Why, praytell, had he selected me?  He was lavishing me with attention, flattering and complimenting me at every turn, and we were making plans to talk on the phone during the holidays.  He sent me sweet little music videos and told me all those things a woman wants to hear.  But, the nagging question.....me??  I mean, he could probably have any woman that he wanted.  He was attractive, wealthy, and intelligent.  He obviously was a catch!  He seemed to have it all.  So why was he online, looking for someone with whom he could "spend the rest of  my (his) life?"

A couple of days passed with no email and I just figured it was a busy time of the year for him, what with all the importing and whatnot.  But I thought it was a wee bit coincidental that he chose that particular point in our correspondence to slack off.  Actually, I was getting a little suspicious so I emailed him a fairly terse note that said, in essence, that I guessed he'd become distracted and obviously wasn't interested in developing our relationship further.  I thanked him for his kind attention and wished him well.  Other fish in the sea and all that jazz....

Oh my oh my, that sucker grabbed the hook and ran with it!  Within a few short hours I received a pleading, almost pathetic response.  "Please," he begged me,  "give me another chance!  I am so terribly sorry!  Let me buy you something.  I'll send you a present- anything you want!  Money is no object..."

Money is no object?  Why, that's enough to turn the head of any seasoned fisherwoman!  But, really, now.  Was that what I wanted?  Someone who wanted to buy my affections?

Well, maybe....  ;)

But seriously, I told him no no no, that wasn't necessary.  I magnanimously accepted his effluent apology and suggested that we just start over again.  Which we did.

The correspondence picked up again.  We were writing back and forth a couple of  times a day and chatted now and then via instant messaging.  Then, one evening, I got an ominous note.  He had something to tell me and he wasn't sure that after I heard it that I'd want to talk with him any more.

Why, whatever could it be?  By this time I'd convinced myself that we could talk through any potential problems and I assured him that he could tell me anything. 

The next morning, this was waiting in my Inbox:

My dear Angie, I have something terribly difficult that I must tell you.  I think you are an amazing woman and I have felt myself becoming more and more attracted to you.  But I fear that you will not want to speak with me again if I tell you the truth.  You see, I am black.  Everything else I told you is true but I was afraid that you would reject me if you knew of my true race.  I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me and if you can, I promise never to lie to you again.  Love, the Blowfish.

Really?  REALLY??  I had never, not once, indicated in any way, shape or form that I was limiting my search to one particular race or culture.  And, check me if I'm incorrect in this, but isn't this the 21st century??  What must he have thought of me to assume that I wouldn't talk to him because his skin was a different color than mine?  I don't know whether I was madder at him because he lied to me or because he felt in necessary to lie!

Once my initial rage had quieted I responded to his heartfelt confession.  After all, I thought, the poor guy.  He must really have a lousy self-image, something to which I could relate.  After properly chastising him for making assumptions about me and for feeling the need to lie about his heritage, I told him (yet again) that I was willing to start over, this time with the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

I never got another email from him.

Love,
Angie