I'm sitting cross-legged on my therapist's couch 4 months after my husband's announcement that he wants a divorce when my therapist informs me that he thinks I should start dating again.
I had told myself and others that I was going to take time off to concentrate on myself for once. Between a husband and three boys, I didn't know who I was anymore. I just wanted to hang out with my girlfriends, drink martinis like a fish, and let the hair grow long on my legs if I wanted. I had even gone so far as to announce to my friends that I was going to take a full year off from any kind of relationship.
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Man #100, My Stalker/Super Fan
You may have noticed that today we’re going out of sequence. I’ve been holding out on you, dear readers, about something, which could prove to be important to my future physical or emotional well-being.
I have a stalker/super fan.
It all started quite a while ago, last year in March, in fact, the night I placed my Craigslist ad. I received a ton of emails, and amongst those emails I had a message from a man informing me that he couldn’t possibly date me at Man #4, because, quite frankly, I would fall hopelessly in love with him and he would screw up my therapy.
He also asked if I knew what I was getting myself into by placing a Craigslist ad, and if I was ready for my inbox to be flooded with a thousand penis pictures. He said he had considered providing a picture of his own, but the last time he had tried to send a picture of his penis the internet had shut down for 2 hours because of the file size.
You may recall that I suspended any further communication with him, on that particular night, because I feared I was only one email away from receiving a naked picture of his package.
Anyway, after my Craigslist Crap Shoot post, I heard from him again.
“I just read your blog! How cool you mentioned me, and referred to me as a “gentleman”. Now I must say my feelings were slightly hurt (being the touchy, feely, metro-sexual that I am) when you “feared” my next email might contain pictures of a graphically gratuitous nature.”
And, as I feared, this email contained a picture of his cock (seen below), and he signed his email with “#100.”
I couldn’t help but be intrigued though. He obviously had some of my favorite characteristics in a man.
Confidence. I like that. In My Stalker/Super Fan’s case, I had no way of knowing if his was the delusional self-confidence of a sociopath or if his confidence about making me fall in love with him was based on some sort of actual charisma, which I would find utterly irresistible.
Sense of humor. Back when I was tracking my dates in an Excel spreadsheet, the attribute that most often appeared in the men I liked and wanted to date again was a sense of humor. Check. I am such a sucker for a sense of humor, and humor appeared in every one of his emails. Some of them even made me laugh out loud.
Intelligence. Let’s face it. A sense of humor of this caliber takes intelligence, and he writes well, which, as you know, is a big thing for me.
A dirty mind. This, coupled with a sense of humor, is, apparently, one of my favorite combinations and could also explain why I’m always picking the wrong men.
Anyway, for all I know, he could be a 3 foot tall, 80-year-old man with Morton’s toe, and yet, I find myself looking forward to his emails. Over the past year, I have heard from him periodically after traumatic dates or big events. (Getting my MBA) He almost always makes me laugh, and, at times, has shown a more serious side. Basically, he’s cyber seducing me, it’s working, and anyone who has done online dating knows this is dangerous, dangerous territory to get into.
A few nights ago, in an email, he said he was going to have dinner at a local restaurant, and I found myself fighting off the urge to go to the restaurant, park my ass on a seat at the bar, and see if I could figure out which patron might be My Stalker/Super Fan. I did not follow through however. I wussed out.
In an ironic twist of fate, I am becoming My Stalker/Super Fan’s stalker.
Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with me? I know better than to start fantasizing about this guy. Just a couple of weeks ago, on Dr. Flora Brown’s show, I was warning listeners not to get their hopes up for anything but a first date before actually meeting someone. It doesn’t matter how amazing the emails might be. When you meet in person, there may be no chemistry whatsoever.
And yet, I’m falling for him.
I am a sick puppy……and my therapist worries about me now more than ever.
Photo here. (Note love rule #2.)