Friday, March 20, 2015

A weekly series: Friday I'm in love.....Poems (about Poop) and loveletters from the LoveBinder. Vol. 4

"Friday I'm In LOVE" Weekly series!  I missed last week, because, life collapsed and exploded, but today, is a new one.  Happy Friday!!!!!

The previous "Friday I'm In Love" posts are here: Vol. #1 Vol. #2. Vol.#3
( If you need to catch up)...

The story is funny and spins in those types of circles love and life twist and fly within.
Where we met: A Tony Robbins seminar. (both of us begrudgingly sent by our parents)
How it started: He emailed a very restrained and dry email, and I replied with 400 hundred words in lights...shimmering.
What it was: A beautiful, well-documented fledgling  love between two writers, a cynic (him) and a muse(me) bouncing and reflecting each other's light and darkness with words and passion and discovery. We spoke of life, university, truth and our fathers. (both now, passed on.) Life is strange, and good, and exactly as it should be.
Where we are now: Both married (to other people) with kids, and budding writing careers. His, more than mine as he has a screenplay "in sales" mode and wide circulation. We spoke last night, 16 years after the first email was sent....All is right and fascinating.

Things of note: 
  • He ended every email with a movie quote, often started out by saying: "I only have a moment to text" and then wrote pages. 
  • I ended every email with an original poem. 
This Friday: The discussion is about POOP. Yep. POOP. I had always indulged an irrational fear of needing a bathroom. Usually, if in standstill traffic, or anywhere there is not one readily accessible. I'm the girl that watches "The Bachelor" and when a beautiful helicopter comes to swoop the would-be love birds up and whisk them to some breathtaking island in the middle of no where, I think: "Oh hell, no." I'd sprint away, tagging off with a different girl. So, in this particular letter I had just confessed. He took it like an absolute champ! 

Friday, August 20th, 3:36pm, 1999:
I ended my email with a poem (or 2) and horrible spelling and punctuation. So it goes. My love of hockey players evident-"Puck head." I also love seeing the three-ring punch hole in the top left corner from the Binder of Love.

Friday, August 20, 5:21pm, 1999:
His hilarious response is below. He was perfectly self-deprecating, disarming and funny while showing pure acceptance. 

Friday, August 20, 7:30pm, 
I must have been out for the evening, as I didn't respond. Below is what I like to call a "Re:Re" as shown at the top of emails you respond to more than once. (without reply from the other party.) I am infamous for doing such. Ugh. His letter is incredibly sweet, none the less. Love is intoxicating and whimsical and all consuming at this stage in the process.

My responses, and more silly love-drunk poems will have to wait until next week... 


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