It Could Happen to You................ posted 12/31/2007 2:22:19 AM | 54 kudos what's this?     report abuse tagged: blog, love, friendship

KUPUNA

You give but little when you give of your possessions. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. - Kahlil Gibran


.What would a mother think of a middle aged woman using the internet to find love? That was what I was doing 7 years ago on Dreammates when the site was free for women to send and receive messages. Not so for men who spits back an automated message that says he was in the process of clearing his payment or some such nonsense. I was naïve and a newbie then. A check takes about a week or so to clear? So I kept up a daily dialog and he kept on sending me those automated messages. He started sending me virtual messages in the bottle. He changed his user name from FScott to Mail me with the next response with still another user name At the yahoo site. It was an easy code- Mail me at the yahoo site under FScott.

Clever wasn’t he? And he created that email just for me. Almost from the beginning we sparred at each other, sparking and jockeying for an equitable balance of power, both of us trying to zoom ahead like a NASCAR driver.. He kept me on my toes.

At the time he was working on a project in Italy and frequently regaled about his stories of how complacent the Milanese was. They called him, “The Terrorist”. A few years later I saw why. Architects are revered in Milan. He was revered in Italy because of his innovative ideas and meticulous attention to details. He also yells like a dictator and demands that they do it over again if it was not to his specifications. He physically throws the designs back at them. If you’re a good designer, you’re treated like a celebrity. “Architectto!! Architectto!!” Like a movie star walking on the red carpet.

Refined with superb eloquent taste, he was not handsome. As a matter of fact, he was aging ungracefully. When I first met him a year later, I said, “Ewwwwwwwwwwww”. Man, talk about Photoshop, it will have to be an extreme make-over. It didn’t matter because we promised that no matter what happened or nothing happened, we would always be good friends.

We became best friends, calling each other all times of the night, telling each other our worst fears; and most of all being honest about ourselves. I never knew what it meant to have a male friend as a friend because it’s a foreign concept in the traditional world I grew up in. But best friends… He was there when I severed ties with my mother (that’s another story) and how agonizing it was to do. Yet he was unable to set limits and draw boundaries with his family’s constant requests for help. I felt that we achieved that spiritual union of a good marriage but without sex.

And that too was discussed. He was honest that he had some difficulty there. We did a lot of research about medication and libido and its effect on the aging male. Not only that, we also found men have menopause too. Politics was another area we debated, often with hilarious results, imitating a charade-like fest. It was during these times that we were most seductive when our verbal fencing was the sharpest.

And then it happened. We fell in love. I’m not sure how. And the libido? We were like newly weds holed up for months. And it certainly helped with all those years of verbal foreplay.

But something else happened.

He was diagnosed with cancer but was doing well. He begged me to leave him but I stayed. I entered his world of hospital stays, ambulance chasings, and drug induced rants. Despite all these busy events, he was still a horny bastard.

He died early this year.

As this year closes, I wanted to write about him because he taught me how to give of myself and that in doing so, to love.

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