The story of how Michael and I met seems a bit dated (imagine an Internet without the World Wide Web!) but nevertheless I offer the original article here for your enjoyment. You may also be interested in my coming out story.
The First Time
We held each other for the first time on May 4, 1993. We had met online about six weeks ago, and our relationship grew into a whirlwind romance of non-stop e-mail, letters, and phone calls. Now, I waited anxiously and nervously for his Delta flight to arrive at Oakland International Airport. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, I was finally going to be with my love.
It all began on March 16, 1993, when I posted an article to the Usenet newsgroup alt.sex.motss. (For those who may not know, motss is “members of the same sex.”) I had recently moved to California, and I had even more recently come out as being gay, so I wanted to find others in the area to whom I could talk and relate my feelings and thoughts. Perhaps unexpectedly, I received a deluge of replies to my post — everything from offers of friendship to one-night-stand proposals.
But one of the very first replies caught my attention. It was from a young man at Clemson University in South Carolina — well away from the Bay Area location that I had intended! His first letter conveyed a certain warmth, honesty, and charm that immediately captivated me, and I knew I wanted to become close friends with him, whether or not he was 3,000 miles away! Here’s the actual first message I received from Michael:
From: Michael Pittman
Date: Tue Mar 16 22:14:13 1993
Subject: Hello there...
Howdy Jase,
Nice name. I've never met anyone with that particular name before. I really like it.
Anyway, I saw your ad on the net and just wanted to drop you a line to say hello. How's the weather out on the west coast? Hopefully better than it is here in South Carolina. It's our spring break this week but believe me, it's far from what I call spring weather! I love summertime and being outdoors, so this winter thing just doesn't do much for this southern boy. You close to the beach?
I finger'ed you (he he, I gave you the finger!) and was not prepared for the result. Yow, a loooong plan. But neato, you seem to enjoy the same stuff as me. Weird. I thought I was the only one on earth that had that strange of taste in music, tv, and life in general. :) Star Trek, 'V', and Enya, gotta love 'em.
Me. I'm a graduate student in Computer Engineering at Clemson University, in good ol' South Carolina. Yea, a computer geek. Born and bred in Alabama. I consider myself very immature and proud of it. I don't want to grow up, dammit! In years, I'm 24. Be 25 in May, sigh. That sounds old. But hey, guess what, that's only 19 in hex! I actually look younger than that. People often guess around 17 or so. They're shocked when I tell them my real age.
Some things I like to do: read scifi/fantasy/horror/neato geeky scientific stuff, play with the computer (ray tracing, etc.), working out, bike riding, swimming, watching tv & movies, listen to music (very wide variety), walking, skating, and going to amusement parks (roller coasters are great!), etc.
Like I said, this is spring break week for us here and I stayed at school rather than go home in order to get some major work done on my master's thesis. This was a good distraction from that BORING task. I hope you decide to write back, I never get any e-mail.
— Michael
Note: As Michael mentions, at the time this was written I had a fairly long and obnoxious plan file. Web pages didn't exist back then (gasp!) so I summed up all my hobbies, humor, and favorite things in one long text file.
Only two days later, on March 18, Michael first said those three wonderful words, “I love you,” in one of his messages:
From: Michael Pittman
Date: Fri Mar 19 22:43:37 1993
Subject: Jus some more sappy stuff...
Hello Jase,
I know that you didn't expect to hear from me so soon after our chat. But there are a few things I need to say to you, and this way is easier.
When I first saw your ad, something clicked and for some strange reason I wanted to respond. I had had thoughts of answering a post before but had never gotten up the nerve to do it. I can remember the feeling I had when I told the computer to (S)end. But, it was too late to turn back then.
You were great though. Better than I could have ever hoped anyone could be. I thank you for that. You'll never know just how much that means to me. No one has ever treated me that way. You don't give yourself enough credit — you are very easy to talk to. You always seem to know just what to say.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I've written you many many times. And I apologize for the sheer volume of what you have had to wade through. But, it's been useful to me to at least say these things to someone who would understand. Someone who would listen. And you're it. Yes, I'm in one of those sappy moods again. =)
But, try as I might, I cannot get you out of my mind. I guess, in a way, I've become infatuated with you. Don't get me wrong now, this is not a fatal attraction or anything like that. =) I'm mature enough to realize what has happened. It's just that, while my mind says one thing my heart says another. And, again, I realize that this is silly. But I cannot change what I feel. I guess that I always want what I cannot have. It's easy to allow myself to want you since you're 3000 miles away and involved with someone else. But, your sooo cute. =) BTW, this should at least be an ego boost!
I hope this doesn't make you feel in the least bit guilty. You have no reason to be. You did not ever lead me on or anything like that. And I'm not pining over you or anything like that — well maybe a little. =) I just don't want you to feel uncomfortable, that's all.
It's silly really. I don't understand myself. But I tend to get involved in a "crush" quickly. I use the word crush because that's what it is, a crush. I've only had this feeling once before and it was equally weird. But, with this experience the guy had no idea. You do.
I just felt that I needed to tell you this. I want to be up front with you. I hope that this doesn't change our friendship. But if it does I understand. I really don't know why I felt obliged to tell you. But I abhor dishonesty. I hate not being me. And for the first time, with you, I could be me no-holds-barred. So I thought I owed it to you to tell you.
Most of what I wanted to tell you, I've already said. One last thing. I love you. I guess that sounds sappy and all. You hardly even know me. For that matter, I hardly even know you. How could I love someone I don't know? I wish I knew. I'm just taking this friendship thing a notch farther. I'm a good friend that loves you. Is that ok to say? I don't expect anything from you. Not even a verification that I said it. I just want you to know that you're special to me.
— Michael
Note: At the time of my post to the newsgroup, I was “involved” with somebody as Michael mentions in this letter. It was a long-distance friendship, and although the other party hoped and advertised it as more than just a friendship, that’s all it was to me.
I’ll admit that I was wary of beginning a long-distance relationship, and of committing to a man on the other side of the country whom I only knew through a computer screen. But at the same time I was elated and excited, because I realized I loved him too. We continued to send messages back and forth (it ended up totalling over 130 messages and 300 KB within two months!), we exchanged pictures, and Michael even sent me roses. Not your average courtship, but it was wonderful nonetheless. After some thinking and soul-searching of my own, I realized that not only did I love this man, but I was in love with him, too.
We eagerly awaited the day that Michael would come out to visit me in California. He had just completed his Master’s Degree in Computer Engineering at Clemson, and naturally he wanted to find a job close to the San Francisco Bay Area. How convenient that I should be living in such a prime location! Michael made his reservations, and we marked Xs on our calendars to count up to the day that we’d finally meet in person.
Our First Week
I remember anxiously watching the passengers coming through the gate, and comparing each one to my mind’s memorized image of Michael’s photograph. Finally a familiar young man in a Hard Rock Cafe t-shirt stepped into view, and I was instantly falling in love all over again — I can’t express the exhilaration of seeing him in person for the first time. We were both in shock, so we made small talk as we walked toward baggage claim and then to my car. But gradually we realized this was really happening, and we were finally together. As we drove down the freeway, we were soon chatting away like old buddies reunited after years of being apart.
When we got to the apartment where I lived with my mom, we had a chance to relax and settle in. We finally hugged each other tight after wanting to do so ever since we met online. As shy as I am, Michael made the first move, and we kissed. Like all first kisses, it may have been sloppy and awkward, but it’s one we’ll both always remember dearly. (Well, at least Michael will. That week is such an exciting blur in my mind that I honestly cannot distinctly remember the kiss itself. But I remember the emotion.)
For a week, we were the young lovers eager to explore our new romance. We journeyed into San Francisco and made a bee-line to the Castro District, where we must have looked like children in a candy factory. We traveled across the Bay and played tourists in Sausalito, complete with a romantic dinner. We visited Mt. Diablo State Park and had a picnic under the blue sky, overlooking the valley of cities below. We went to Great America and screamed our lungs out enjoying the roller coasters. But the most exciting activity all week was simply being together: walking in the park, snuggling with a late movie, and waking up next to each other every morning.
You know the cliché about time and having fun. The week definitely ended too quickly. The day Michael had to return home was a somber one. He had an early afternoon flight, and it was torture as we sat and waited until it was time to drive to the airport. As we hugged at the gate, we both felt numb as if our senses were ignoring the rest of the world. My throat was tight and I couldn’t breath. There were no tears yet for either of us — we knew we’d be together again soon, but we didn’t know how soon that might be. As I watched Michael trudge up the gate walkway and out of sight, I couldn’t hold back anymore, and the tears began to form.
I stood looking out the window of the terminal, scanning the airplane outside for one last glimpse of Michael. Watching out the window beside me were two other people; a young woman and an older grandmother. I wondered if they were feeling as empty and heartbroken as myself as they watched their loved ones leave. The plane took off, and only after it had become a tiny dot in the sky did I turn away. I was practically bawling now, and I ran out the terminal as fast as I could, given that my vision was hampered by a steady flow of tears! I cried more that day than any other time in my life. I never knew how much it can hurt to be in love.
Together Again . . . Forever
Fortunately, it wasn’t long until we received good news. The company in Marin with which Michael had interviewed made him an offer, and we began planning his move to California. In June I flew to meet him in Alabama, and we drove together in his car for three days to California. It was an exciting time seeing the country, visiting the Grand Canyon, and renting hotel rooms with queen-size beds! But most of all, it was exciting to know that we were beginning a lifetime of being together in love.
On April 13, 1994, we decided it was time that we become “respectable” as Michael would say. We hopped on down to a local jewelry store and came home wearing single gold bands on our ring fingers. Maybe someday we’ll think of having an official ceremony for our friends and family to share in our love, but for now we consider ourselves married: as lovers, soul-mates, and best friends.
Update: On Valentine’s Day 2004, we walked down to San Francisco City Hall, said our vows in a civil ceremony, and the city issued us a marriage certificate. (Unfortunately it was later revoked by the State.)
Copyright 1999–2007 by Jase Wells. All rights reserved. Do not reprint without permission. Originally written sometime in 1999 or 2000. Edited January 9, 2004.
