love | the story of me and the texan

{image via goddamnitmichelle, and sadly not at all to scale}

Back in July 2009, I received an exceedingly polite and sweet flickrmail from someone to whom I shall refer as the Texan.  He does have a real name, of course, but I will leave him shrouded in mystery for no reason other than the fact that I feel like it.  Anyway, the Texan was kind enough to compliment me on my photographs, so I responded to say thank you.  And then, he emailed me back.  So I emailed him back.  And so we continued to email and email about everything under the sun - random observations, little everyday things and the not so little things.  We shared a lot - two people on opposite sides of the planet who had never even met, but somehow we simply clicked and it all seemed perfectly okay.  I grew to look forward to seeing his (actual) name pop up in my inbox, he was like a little ray of occasionally slightly crazy Texan sunshine at a time when I felt completely at sea and unsure of where my life was headed.  I thought he was cute and funny and he always cheered me up, but I guess you could say that the timing was a little ... off.

But, we continued to email.

The Texan got a job and relocated to Germany.  I bought an apartment.  The Texan left Germany for another job back in the US, then spent five weeks in Korea for training.  My life finally started to settle down and come together.

Throughout all of this, we continued to email.

As 2010 hit the home straight, I found myself thinking of the Texan more and more often.  Random thoughts, day and night.  What he was up to, when I would hear from him next ... Eventually I acknowledged to myself, with a mild sense of alarm, that really, I had a crush on this guy.  A frickin' crush.  On a guy I had never even spoken to, let alone met.  Good grief.  I felt like an idiot teenager again, not to mention Scared As Hell of Rejection.

What to do?

I pondered for awhile.  I read and re-read his emails, searching for some kind of sign (hell, even an implication would have sufficed at that point) that my crush was even mildly reciprocated.  I didn't want to make a fool of myself, but by the same token, and after much deliberation, I thought that if there was even the slightest chance that he felt the same, I had to go for it.

So, I went for it.

Well, kind of.

My version of "going for it" was to send the Texan a painfully mashy, roundabout email in which I asked him whether he maybe possibly might ever vaguely feel like talking on Skype, maybe possibly, just a suggestion, no pressure.  Aiming for nonchalant and light, I fell way short and instead landed on something approaching unhinged.  I felt physically ill with nerves sitting in my office typing out that message, and even worse about sending it.  What if he said no?  I decided to leave it in the drafts folder for awhile.  Eventually, at the end of that work day, I took a deep, deep breath, hit "send" and cringed in the manner that one might throw a grenade and immediately duck for cover.  Well, I assume.  I have never actually thrown a grenade, but you get my drift.  I then shut down my computer and practically ran to my car to drive home, as if getting away from the mode of communication would somehow make me feel better :p

After what seemed like an eternity, but was really less than a day (not bad given the time difference), the Texan put me out of my misery and sent back a giant YES.  We lined up a time, a couple of weeks down the track.  Right before our scheduled call, the Texan sent me a Skype chat message - "are you ready?"  Beside myself with nerves, I responded: "no."  He called me anyway.  We talked for three hours.  Weekly voice calls turned into video calls a couple of times a week, then every second day, and then each and every day, with endless text messages in between.  I upgraded my internet plan.  The Texan woke at, or stayed up to, unearthly hours to talk to me.  I started to sleep with my iPhone on the empty side of the bed, waking several times each night to reach for it and text him in the middle of his afternoon.  "I have a crush on you" turned to "I like you," which turned to "I really, really, really like you," which eventually became "I love you."  Suddenly, he meant everything to me, and being on opposite sides of the world started to hurt.

Totally crazy about each other, the Texan and I decided to meet.  We spent a couple of weeks throwing around various plans, and finally settled on one.  And so now, within a matter of days, and after more than twenty months, one thousand emails, 150 hours of Skype calls and more text messages than you can poke a stick at, the Texan and I will finally stand face to face for the very first time in the arrivals hall at Prague International Airport.  I cannot even imagine how incredibly surreal it is going to be.  I don't know whether I will throw my arms around him or stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to say and blushing furiously.  I have no idea.  All I know is that I cannot wait.