Kevin and I have been friends for almost five years, and lovers for almost one now. We met while chatting online. He lives in Bangkok, I live in Washington DC. It was pretty easy to become friends when we first talked over IRC - we clicked so well immediately. Whatever it was, thank God for that. He is a very special man, one I want to have in my life for as long as we both live.
It started off as just friendship, with no expectations. We had so many reasons not to expect anything more from each other. When we first met we were both in relationships with other people. He is seven and a half years my junior, and if I had to have a "type", at that time it would have been someone my age or older. At least according to my dating history.
However, it's the little things that change us. I started to fall in love with him when I was going through a very tough time with my then-boyfriend, feeling very emotionally isolated and unwanted. Kevin was always there as a kind ear, willing to lend me moral support and provide an unexpectedly perspicacious sounding-board for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on.
I really started to notice him and think of him as more than just a friend when we decided to exchange physical addresses and start writing letters. He is a master of the intimate gesture - my first correspondence with him was a postcard-puzzle, where he wrote a message on the back and then took the pieces apart to send it to me, so I would have a challenge, have to invest something of myself before I got the whole message. I still have that postcard. The email reflects the little things too. Our online correspondence covers the day-to-day stuff about our lives. The ups, the downs, the I-did-something-at-work-today-I'm-proud-ofs and the I-had-a-shitty-day-at-school-and-I-need-a-hugs too.
It was through our correspondence and chats that I came to know Kevin as more than just lines of text on a screen. We exchanged pictures online, and as we continued to do so, a complete life began to emerge. I saw a face I could easily fall in love with, with a winning smile and dazzling eyes. I also saw someone I found quite sexy, someone not afraid to let me see the naughty side in him.
I was also going through a period of low self esteem, and having someone express personal, as well as sexual appreciation for you is a huge ego boost. Kevin always had a way of making me feel wanted, both as an emotional and sexual partner. I usually hide from the camera lens, partly because as a photographer myself, I feel more comfortable behind it than in front, and also because years of gay body-fascism about " acceptable physiques" had gotten to me - and I didn't fit the description. Kevin made it clear that he found me plenty damn sexy as I was, in contrast to my then-lover, who for reasons of his own couldn't express any feelings at all, let alone say that he found me desirable. Even so, I was reluctant to pursue a relationship with Kevin because he was still involved at the time, even if we were both growing increasingly dissatisfied with our partners.
Life works in mysterious ways. In April of 2000, I got a job in San Francisco. In June of the same year, Kevin was given the opportunity to go there as well. It would be our first real life, face-to-face meeting. I was extremely nervous about it. Up until that actual moment, we had both still been very cautious about pursuing any relationship beyond friendship.
Another true test of love is kitchen compatibility. We managed to stay out of each other's way well enough to each make half of our brunch and not kill each other in the process (as you know, brunch is to gay men what High Mass in Rome is to Catholics...if it isn't perfect, it's sacrilegious, and someone needs to die a slow and painful death as penance).
We had our weekend together in San Francisco, and it seemed to end barely after it began. We said our goodbyes in my car and swore to stay in touch. We were both worried that things might not work because of the distance, so at that time we both held a little back. But the truth is, I didn't want him to get out of the car.
Talking about it after he returned to Thailand, we both admitted that we felt the same way about each other - and the feelings went far beyond mere friendship. I asked him, "So what are we going to do about it?" The answer we both gave to that question was, "whatever it takes".
"Whatever it takes" was apparently a lot of patience and sacrifice. From that time in San Francisco, it was eight months until I was able to see him again. In between, there was a lot of snail mail, some email, and a bunch of phone calls. I moved back to DC, he finished another semester of school. We planned for my visit for over two months, agonizing over every detail.
I finally made it to Thailand in February of this year. Getting to spend time with Kevin in person again was extremely gratifying, because it confirmed what I had come to know about him from our online relationship. He was everything I expected, and more. Because we had developed such an open and honest friendship (enabled, I think, by the freedom and emotional cover provided by the safety-net of IRC and email), we were able to discuss and explore feelings together that had always been stumbling blocks in past relationships. We discovered that we were thinking and feeling the same things, and we both read each others' body language very naturally - as if all those years talking 18,000 miles apart had actually been spent face to face. Whether he was nervous or happy, afraid or puckish, I could just look at his face and know right away. I didn't have to guess his moods because I already knew them and knew what they meant. When we decided to exchange engagement rings, there was not the slightest bit of hesitation or nervousness for either of us. We both had the certainty of feeling that can only come from a real understanding.
Of course, the electronic element is no substitute for real-world interaction. You can't really make love via a keyboard or a telephone. But when you can't actually touch him, having those technological tools available can make the difference between keeping the relationship alive (and, yes, happy) and not having the relationship at all. We stay in touch far more often than I ever did with any of my snail-mail penpals. Internet telephony (and a billing screw-up on the part of my handphone service) let us talk at minimal cost on the phone every week. Things like this ease the pain of separation, and make it bearable.
Without the ability develop our friendship through IRC, we would never have gotten to the point of considering a deeper relationship. Without the communication access that the internet and other technologies provide, keeping our relationship together would have been significantly harder. Thanks to the years of getting to know each other online, we have come to know each other deeply and intimately, allowing us to both work on a relationship that is stronger than distance and time. We have both vowed to do whatever it takes to make this relationship move from trans-oceanic to one of cohabitation. We have decided on our goal, our heart's desire. Thanks to the web, we also have the communication tools to make this dream a reality, one day at a time.
列印版本
RSS Feed: 
