Calling…me.

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Sundaynight I had an amazing conversation with someone from my distant past. It’s funny the kind of things that Facebook brings to the forefront. Former stalkers, old best friends from elementary school and that guy you went to one dance with Sophomore year and always wondered why he didn’t ask you out after the dance. That’s right this girl got added back in September by this guy, and then wondered why didn’t we ever go out? and promptly remembered we did in Middle School for a full school week. That’s right five whole days and then I’m pretty sure I dumped him for the Bio when popped back on my radar after a quickie break-up. Yeah, the Bio and I had that kind of relationship even as kids. Sick and twisted but true.

Last week, I got an email from this guy asking if we could talk. And because he never creeped me out or made me scared for my life as a teen, I agreed and gave him my cell number. We played phone tag for most of the week and then last night we had one of those really great catch up conversations that made feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Why? My honest immediate reactions is that it was nice to have someone just wanting to talk. Someone wanting to share details of their life and ask questions about things and spend the timein themoment, and thento say, ‘it was amazing getting to talk to you’.

It makes me think of the days when I first starting dating, and spending hours on the phone getting to know someone before the big date. Before email and texting and yes before on-line dating. Technology so badly has skewed how we make time for each other. In fact, Mr. Nomad and I have had more phone conversations over the last week and have refrained from texting. He revealed that he dislikes texting greatly, and that he’d rather spend an hour on the phone than an hour texting and trying to decipher if I’m being sarcastic or mad or happy or joking.That got me thinking about recent issues with Mr. S. He hated texting too. But did it more frequently than anyone I’ve ever dated. In fact we would text argue over things and then talk on the phone and everything would suddenly make sense.

Communication is huge with me. If you can’t talk to me and tell me what’s on your mind, how you feel and what’s going on then what’s the point? If you have to text me to tell me your mad, email to explain how you feel or IM to get your point across then something will always be missing from how we function together.

I suppose that’s why I feel so good about talking to this new guy, who I’ve yet to give a bloggey name. He calls me. He calls me regularly. He wants to talk to me. Rarely do I get a text message, which normally would seem odd to me but at this point I find it kind of refreshing that he communicates like a person with a purpose. He is not simply trying to touch base or keep tabs on my situation, but truly putting out effort to establish communication with me.

Looking at the last few attempts at relationship with the men who I’ve come across that was something that was truly missing. Established interest that was solid and moved me to make similar efforts. In looking back I see a lot of dependence, on both sides, on technology and social media in the initial phases of getting to know and therefore not really gaining knowledge of the other person’s true identity. Maybe grasping at tidbits of information. Those little floating surface pieces that give us something to hope for but not ever truly creating that bond that a phone call or hours of conversation builds.

I’m taking a step back on this one and seeing my part in it too. It’s funny because I’ve always been comfy with a text or an IM or whatever was convenient and now I feel like those modes of communicating just don’t get the job done.

There’s a guy who wants to get to know me. I like it. I like the way it feels right now. And that’s good stuff.

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