“We Met Online”

“We Met Online”

Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to the digital age of dating…and its consequences.

I’m out to dinner with friends.  The conversation is light and jovial, laughter resonates among us and a few beers give my cheeks that warm, euphoric glow.  I’m relishing this moment.  What makes it even better (beyond the beer, friends, and freedom of summer) is that on my left I’ve got a good man, and he’s swimming in the same atmosphere with me. We are drinking in the night together.  And like a missing puzzle piece he fits seamlessly into my life—come to think of it—maybe the euphoric glow is him, and not the beers.

And then it happens.  The conversation takes a turn.  “So how did you two meet?”

We glance at each other.  Nervously.  How does one answer this question and make it sound romantic?

“We met by a waterfall the mist giving life to our affections”

“It all started with a moonlit stroll upon the shore as the waves lapped at our exposed ankles”

“We were in line at the coffee shop and, like fate sewing us together, we had the exact same drink order.”

But we don’t have that story.  Ours has much less pomp and circumstance:

“We met online.”

“Oh.  Well good for you two!”

This is the moment where I feel swindled out of our love story.  I want to say, “Wait!  Hold on!  Let me tell you things—ROMANTIC things!!  Things that will make your heart go pitter-pat and you’ll uncontrollably sigh, “awwwwwwwwwwww!”  But I don’t—instead I order another beer.

So…why am I so upset about all this?  We met online…it’s cute, right?  Not so much.  And here’s why:

That phrase neglects so many glorious moments.  It neglects our transfusion of music—he shared his, and I shared mine, and we shared ours; like a blood pact these melodies have embedded themselves into our lives.  It neglects a first date at an Ethiopian restaurant where we shared in the awkwardness of experiencing a new culture.  It neglects a sweet Arizona morning while we swim around in a cold creek , our limbs spun about in a whirlpool at the base of a waterfall.  It neglects soft kisses in a tent, curled up on an air mattress, the wind and rain tapping out a new song. It neglects so much.

But if these experiences are the consequences of meeting an amazing man online—then I’ll take them.  And I’ll proclaim loudly, “WE MET ONLINE!” Because, in this case, one doesn’t happen without the other.

So beware my readers, the consequences of meeting a man online might mean you’ll have to admit it …and then, if you’re lucky, you’ll get to live it.