I totally fell in love with this Englishman when I was backpacking through New Zealand. He laid it on so thick, man. First of all, he was absolutely gorgeous. Secondly, that accent. He spent all of our time together completely mindfucking me into thinking that he liked me. It was glorious. First it was him getting drunk and telling me I was beautiful and had a perfect nose. Then it was him asking me to watch TV with him in his bed. He said he wanted to come to Los Angeles and rent a convertible and drive across the country with me. I was so smitten. At the time I paid no mind to the fact that we had never even kissed. I actually romanticized the fact and told myself it was better that way. I would kiss him at the airport when he came to see me in Los Angeles.
After I returned home we exchanged a few awkward emails. He was not great at responding, and I'm not great at waiting around. I told myself it was better this way. In my mind, he would always remain perfect, so I let go. And, like every boy, it took a good two weeks of not seeing or hearing from him to get him off my mind. As always, it worked, and I was up and thinking about a new guy before I knew it. I think I sent The Brit a "how are things?" email about a month ago when I saw that he had been tagged in some Facebook photos, but I didn't receive a response.
Until today. My phone buzzed while I was sleeping last night to let me know I had a new message. 99% of the time it's some sort of junk email that arrives that late in the night, but my curiosity kills me every time and it's impossible for me not to check to make sure it's not something important. I had new mail from The Brit! It took everything in me not to sit up and read it right there, but I wanted to have something to look forward to in the morning, so I put my phone down and saved it for the next day.
Today I woke up and it was like Christmas morning, only instead of candy in my stocking, I had a delicious email in my inbox. I got up, made some tea (it's only appropriate when reading an email from the UK), and plopped myself in front of the computer in anticipation. I went to my inbox, clicked on the big fat illuminated "1", and started to read.
"How are you my love?...england is good but it's cold! hope your well. xx--"
Sigh. That doesn't give me much to work with. I told him I was good and that Los Angeles was warm and that I had started writing. I actually gave him a link to this blog! (Hi, J! :/) A boring response to a boring email. Lackluster. Ugh. But then I realized that I don't really have anything to say to a guy that I met 3 months ago and haven't seen since, other than the fact that he should have used "you're" instead of "your,"and I felt better.
So maybe not a love connection after all, but he will look great in photos with me when he eventually comes to visit in Los Angeles, so that's a bonus.