You're Missing What?

Originally posted 07/13/2005 8:54pm

In May 1995, a really nice young man, "R", answered a personal ad I had on Prodigy. He had just turned 30 and HIS biological clock was ticking. He was a genuinely nice guy. Kinda on the geeky side, but sweet. He worked in the technology/computer department of a large hospital. We killed some major hours writing e-mails to one another. The great thing was that he liked me just as much as I liked him and he would do these "endearing" things like email me jokes and riddles, send me packages of "cubicle art" he had collected (you know the things-- those little cartoons and pictures that people hang up that say things like "stress is the overwhelming desire to smack the sh*t out of someone" etc etc etc), send me t-shirts he'd get for eating a lot of ice cream, scan photos to disk that I sent him, etc. "I LIKE YOU" types of stuff. We wrote for months.... MONTHS... without losing interest in one another. We lived about 2 1/2 hours apart, though, so eventhough we'd write about meeting, it would never really work out. He sent me a "coupon" good for one free dinner if I should ever find myself in his town.

In early October 1995, I was in his town for a a three-day conference. I debated with myself over whether or not I should tell him and finally collect on the coupon. At the last minute, I sent him an email telling him where I'd be staying and how long I'd be in town. On the second night of the conference, we had a "mixer" in the hotel. The drinks were free and there was great dance music. I met up with some colleagues and had a few drinks and did some dancing. When I got back to my hotel room around midnight, there was a note on my nightstand from the woman I was rooming with saying that "R" had called. I freaked out. I guess I hadn't really thought he'd look me up. I was a little high on life so I went to the pay phone in the lobby (I didn't want to call from the room and wake up my roomie) and called him. I hadn't even looked at the clock. I woke him up. I was so giddy and goofy. It was the first time we had ever talked on the phone. He sounded really nice and he didn't even get mad that I woke him up. He said, "So, are you ready to collect on that free dinner?" I said yes and told him I was only going to be in town one more day, though, and wasn't going to be staying over because I had to work the day after that. He asked what time the conference ended and I said 5 but I could probably cut out early. We agreed to meet the next day at a local mall for dinner.

I could not keep my mind on the conference. I had already told most of my colleagues about my "internet boyfriend" and they were teasing me, encouraging me, offering up suggestions and advice. Finally, around 4, I couldn't take it any longer and left the conference. I wanted to get to the mall before him so that I could be watching for him. I wanted to see if I could pick him out of a crowd. We had agreed to meet on the second floor by the escalators.

When the meeting time came and went, I started to get nervous. Did I pick the right place? Was I on the wrong floor? Had he shown up, seen me and left? Then, while I was panicking internally, I looked up and saw this tall, cute, dark-haired guy walking towards me with a smile on his face. I did one of those things where you look over your shoulder to make sure there isn't someone standing behind you waiting for that person. Nope. No one there. He came right to me and said my name. Then, we hugged and he said, "How does Max and Erma's sound?" I said that it sounded fine and we walked to the restaurant.

We got settled in the restaurant and made nervous small talk. I was looking at the menu trying to figure out what to have. I had never been there before. I was looking over the pasta dishes, salad dishes, etc I finally decided on a salad because it had the less potential to end up on the front of my dress. He chose spaghetti and meatballs. While we were waiting on our food, he said to me, "There's something I've been wanting to tell you." I looked at him waiting for the "I'm gay." or "I'm married." or "I'm changing my name and moving to Timbuktu." Something, anything that would promptly end all hopes of a happily ever after. "You know how I told you in my e-mails that I was sick for awhile and had to have some surgery?" he asked, with this serious look on his face. I nodded, fearful of what he was about to tell me. "Well, the truth is, I had cancer. I'm fine now. The prognosis is good. But, they had to remove one of my testicles and my chances of having kids get lower every day," he said. I just looked at him. What do you say to that? I was shocked. Scared a little, too, because I hadn't really known anyone who had battled cancer and I surely had no clue as to why he had to have a testicle removed. I nodded and made some empathetic comment. I can't even remember what I said, to be honest. I was curious about why he brought it up then... and why face to face? Did he want to see my reaction? Was he going to tell me he wanted me to have his kids? Was he that serious about me that he felt that he needed to tell me? Did he think he was going to get lucky after dinner and thought he should tell me so that I didn't get suspicious when I couldn't find "it" later?

We ate our meals, made small talk, then he walked me to the entrance to the parking garage. I tried not to look "down there" to see if I could notice anything. I tried not to see if he walked differently. We hugged, he kissed my cheek and he said he'd be in touch. I got into my car and drove home in a bit of a fog.

We got together one more time after that "date" and I even took a friend along to get her opinion of him. He wasn't the same guy that time, though. He wasn't as personable and seemed kind of blah. His emails got fewer and fewer and eventually, by December that year, he had stopped writing altogether. I don't really know what went "wrong." Maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

When I moved to "his" town the following year, I sent him an email to let him know I was here in case he ever just wanted a friend or whatever, but I never heard back from him.

Not to make light of the whole thing (because it is a serious thing and I'm glad he was a survivor), I have to admit it was hard to watch him eat spaghetti and meatballs after he shared his news. Every time he bit into the meatball, I flinched a little and wondered if there was some symbolism there that I was missing.