Text messages from this evening:
Phil: Long time no see
Me: I think I am falling for Seabiscuit.
Phil: Who dat? Specs. You date so much I can’t keep track.
Me: Lol, you have heard about him. The older guy, photographer.
Me: We have exchanged 90 emails now in 33 days.
Phil:Your metric for intimacy is rate of text/email exchange. I’ve always found that interesting. Not in a bad way mind you. Just interesting.
Me: I’M REALLY INTO WRITING.
He is right though. I do seem to think of intimacy in words exchanged. With Caleb it was texts. With all these men from Craigslist, it is by emails (and soon recordings–Lord, I can’t wait to hear Seabiscuit’s voice! But Lord Byron may particularly make me swoon with that special fondness I have of British accents and their effects on me.)
Despite Patrick being an idiot, he did get a few things right. He said once about me having an ethereal mind: “For you, words are real.” It is very true. They mean very much to me; it was always disappointing when I would ask J to write something for me and he never would. So it goes.
Now I’m just measuring intimacy in words–and how much variation there is in the quality I receive!