secret agent man

i was exchanging wildly hilarious, refreshingly stimulating, gloriously challenging emails with a particular dog-loving gentleman i'd met through one of those personals websites i was using a while back, and the more i got to know this man, the more i liked him. he not only could keep up with me intellectually, but he kept me wildly stimulated and challenged me constantly to out-perform my own mental self.

i loved that. do you know how difficult it is to meet a man who's engaging like that? i'm extremely sharp and intelligent, with a cutting sense of humor. and i'm a gamer chick. it's extremely difficult! meeting him was kind of like meeting my version of a walking/talking holy grail.

wow, they do exist!

we saw a movie together, had coffee and two-and-a-half hours of extremely easy conversation, and he even enjoyed sushi with me without embarrassing himself. it rocked. but i hadn't heard from him in a week, so i sent him an email just seeing if he was alive. well, not only was he alive, but he'd suffered the excruciating tragedy of a promotion in his corporate workplace. i sent the proper condolences and left it at that. he called me (leaving voicemails that had me dying laughing), and we went for a movie.

then i hadn't heard from him again. so i sent him a small email after i think another week. just "poke it with a stick, see if it moves," kinda deal. he'd pulled or strained a muscle and suffered a weekend on his back. as a massage therapist, i can understand and totally respect that. but i haven't heard from him again. this time, i will be sending no more emails. i'm utterly fabulous, and i have better and more numerous things to be doing. two emails is plenty.

besides, i have decided he was actually wildly and mind-boggingly, seriously into me and knew that i would touch his heart in incredible ways, but he's actually an international secret agent and couldn't risk me finding out his true identity...

and not only that, but he's just found out that he was working for the bad guys all along, so now the government has him working as a double agent. however, he thinks about me all the time in particular because his handler is a butt ugly man with greasy hair and an even greasier attitude. and it gives him somewhat of a sense of comfort to know that he's fighting the good fight to make the country a safe place to live, and i'm the face he puts on the nation. the memory of my laughter keeps him company on those lonely nights on missions when he doesn't know if he's gonna live to see tomorrow. and when he accidentally gets captured by the bad guys, the memory of my hugs and my appreciation for old movies gives him the strength and courage to escape to fight again. when he's with his handler he laughs to think of my delena humor snarking off at this butt-ugly, greasy fark.

...it sure beats considering the highly-unlikely scenario that he didn't consider me wonderful enough to pursue.