Have we met? I love you.

Imagine having a relationship with someone for years, decades perhaps, and never having met them.

I’ve known people, through my work on the net, literally for decades. One fellow, Charles Carroll, I met while writing magazine articles for MIND (Microsoft Internet Developer) in the late 90’s, and while we worked on that ancient technology known as Classic ASP. We still connect, though infrequently. I’ve never met the man.

I once worked for a fellow for five years; we never spoke. Only exchanged emails.

These days it’s as common as “Alexa: play my morning mix”. We get to know folks — through the internet — and may never speak to them, never see them, never identify who they really are. But yet, we know them.

Attachment through familiarity. Time does that to folks in occasional, or frequent contact — regardless of the medium of communication. Consider penpals: a 19th and 20th century pastime which hooked up people from across realms, countries, continents. They exchanged pleasantries, goings-on, and perhaps, more deeply, misgivings, personal beliefs and aspirations.

Did they meet? Seldom is my guess. But still, they developed a relationship. Perhaps a true and soul-penetrating connection that may have held the two ends-of-their-string up for years.

Today this exists anew. All of you have people you interact with whom you’ve never met. Will never meet. Are such relationships lesser than because of this physical divide? I think not. I think there are those of you with whom I’ve connected, on some level, through this digital bridge. And I think you too have made connections to folks you feel attached to, indebted to, cosmically enmeshed to the point where their absence might leave you wondering — what happened? Where are you? You might feel deflated somewhat, lost.

What if they were to go away and you would never know them again. Their cheerful notes would cease. Their place in your ritual would gap open, unfulfilled. Their vanishing would leave a hole in your life, one that you might not patch, not really knowing if their absence was permanent — or their delay of interaction simply stretched out.

Stretched out and out… until forgotten.

I’m certain, were some of us to meet, we’d be fast friends, confidants and fishing buddies. And as you disappear from my virtual life, and I from yours, recall that there was a spark of connection shared between us.

I’ve never met you, but I love you.

 


15 thoughts on “Have we met? I love you.

    1. https://ko-fi.com/anonymole (Real estate play)
      Until some big site adopts the micropayment mechanism — specifically in the way I’ve outlined (a “wee-fee” bank account from which you can accrue and spend) — then these attempts will struggle and fail to take hold. Who wants to setup all these disparate accounts?

      Liked by 1 person

        1. (Too funny!) I generally have to reread his comments, like 3-4 times, before the divergent references coalesce into an intelligible notion. But they do tend to converge. I think he lives on a profoundness level /way up there/ ^.

          Liked by 1 person

  1. A similar thing happens when working with clients and students. As a teacher, I often wonder what happened to my kids who moved away, dropped out, or just moved on. And same with clients at the homeless shelter – you make this connection through a conversation or series of conversations, and then one day they’re up and gone, and all you can do is hope for the best when rationally you know it’s probably the worst.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Great post. I often reflect upon the sadness of feeling love for people I’ve met only in by way of a digital presence…yet finding it difficult to develop similar relationships to people sitting next to me. I’ve often thought of it as a flaw in my personality…you’ve hit a chord here…

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Please. There is a realm beyond “intellectual” where the questions stop and “Is just is, you know?” The “muse” isn’t some moody, fickle Tinkerbelle,,the cosmic radio is on all the time.
        It is said that we will know the members of our true family better in ten seconds than we know may our “relatives” in a lifetime. “Intellectual” has no more to do with it than the graduating class of I Phelta Thi 2018 really being “bros”.

        Liked by 1 person

          1. True enough. I don’t play the SM ass kiss like I should. But then…Maudlin, naw. Almost touching. But you and the enlightened alien priestess are always arm wrestling the big issues and when you get down to the fabric softener commercial level of our lives you fail to drop the intellectual facade. And that’s all bullshit, intellectualizing. Because what matters isn’t quantifiable, and defies vocabulary. And you know that.

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            1. You and your damn fillet knife, always drawing down to the thick ribs, click, click, click.
              My true voice may mushroom out here soon. I’m rather anxious for its debut. Maybe keeping it swabbed in social tissue lets me dole it out in sushi thin pieces.
              Your truth speaks; I just don’t know how to internalize and metamorph to its Veritaserum – yet.

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