One minute later
Re: Hi
Ha! Now you're contradicting yourself! Three emails ago you told me about your extremely erotic dream, in which you were obviously able to see every little bit of me. Everything apart from my face, that is. Don't tell me you missed my breasts too.
Fifty-five seconds later
Re: Hi
I didn't see a face or breasts, or any other part of your body. I just felt it all.
A minute and a half later
Re: Hi
If you didn't see anything of me, how can you know that I was the woman you were blindly groping?
One minute later
Re: Hi
Because there's only one woman who expresses herself like you do, and that's you!
Two and a half minutes later
Re: Hi
So did we talk while you were groping me?
Fifty seconds later
Re: Hi
I didn't grope you, I felt youâthere's a huge difference. And (among other things) we talked.
Thirty-five seconds later
Re: Hi
Extremely erotic!
A minute and a half later
Re: Hi
What do you know about it, Emmi? I can see that you approach these things far too much like one of “your” men.
Two minutes later
Re: Hi
So on one side there are “my men,” and on the other, “the one and only” Leo, the man who's too sublime for breasts. And for today let's end on this noble distinction. I have to stop nowâthere's some stuff I've got to sort out. I'll be in touch again tomorrow. Till then,
Emmi
The following day
Subject: Meeting up
Well, are we going to meet up then? I've got all the time in the world. Bernhard's taken the children on a week's hiking trip. I'm on my own.
Five and a half hours later
Re: Meeting up
Hey, Leo, cat got your tongue?
Five minutes later
Re: Meeting up
No, Emmi. I'm just thinking.
Ten minutes later
Re: Meeting up
That doesn't bode well. I know exactly what you're thinking about. Please, Leo, let's meet up! Let's not miss what might be our last real opportunity to do so. What are you risking?
What have
you
got to lose?
Two minutes later
Re: Meeting up
1) You
2) Me
3) Us
Seventeen minutes later
Re: Meeting up
The thought of contact seems to fill you with panic, Leo. We will see each other, and we'll like each other, and we'll talk to each other just as we always have, but this time with our mouths. We'll feel comfortable with each other from the outset, and after an hour we'll no longer be able to conceive of what it would have been like had we never set eyes on each other. We'll sit opposite each other at a small table in an Italian restaurant, and you can watch me eat spaghetti al pesto
.
(Do you mind if it's vongole?) I'll turn my head to one side and you'll be able to feel the gust of air that this produces, dear Leo. A real, physical, liberating, non-virtual gust of air!!!
An hour and a half later
Re: Meeting up
You're not Mia, Emmi. Mia and I didn't have any expectations about each other. We set out as two people normally do when they meet. With us it's different, Emmi. We're starting off at the finish line and there's only one way to go: backward. We're heading for massive disillusionment. We can't live the things we write. We can't replace all those images we've painted of each other. It'll be a disappointment if you hide behind the Emmi I know. And that's what you'll do! You'll be depressed if I hide behind the Leo you know. And that's what I'll do! We'll come away from our first and only meeting feeling deflated, sluggish, as if we'd had a heavy meal that doesn't taste very good, a meal we'd been greedily looking forward to for a whole year, a dish we'd allowed to simmer and bubble away for months. And then what? Finished. All over. Eaten up. Would we try to behave as if nothing had ever happened? In our minds we'd always have the demythologized, uncovered, disenchanted, disappointed, raw reflection of the other person. We'd no longer know what to write to each other. And at some point in the future we'd bump into each other in a café or on the bus. We'd try to ignore each other, or pretend not to recognize each other; we'd swiftly turn our backs on each other. We'd be embarrassed by what had become of our “us,” what remained of it. Nothing. Two strangers with a shared pseudo-history, which shamelessly they'd allowed themselves to be deceived by for so long.
Three minutes later
Re: Meeting up
And one hundred animal species become extinct every day.
One minute later
Re: Meeting up
What's that supposed to mean?
Fifty-five seconds later
Re: Meeting up
You just whine, whine, whine, whine, whine. Paint things black, paint things black, paint things black, paint things black.
Twenty-five seconds later
Re: Meeting up
Paint things black.
Forty seconds later
Re: Meeting up
???
A minute and a half later
Re: Meeting up
Paint things black. (You forgot oneâfive “whines,” five “paint things black.” Or four “whines,” four “paint things black”âyou've got one too many “whines.”)
Two minutes later
Re: Meeting up
Good catch, nicely worked out. Typical Leo, a tiny bit OCD, but nonetheless decent and so sweetly attentive. But I want to see your eyes, your real eyes! Good night. Dream of me! And perhaps take a look at me while you're at it!
Three minutes later
Re: Meeting up
Good night, Emmi. I'm sorry I am how I am, how I am, how I am.
Two days later
Subject: Meeting “lite”
Good afternoon, Emmi. Are you (still) insulted, or do you want to have a few glasses of wine together tonight?
In hope, yours,
Leo
An hour and a half later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Hi Leo,
I'm meeting Mia in the flesh this evening. We've decided to hit the town like we did in the good old days and keep on going until we lose it completely, or the last bar closes. Which means it might end up being five in the morning.
Sixteen minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
I understand. You need to make the most of it while the family's away. Send my regards to Mia. And have a good evening.
Eight minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
When you write emails like that one, and there aren't many of them, I'd rather
not
know what you look like. (And by the way, you seem to have a pretty conventional idea of family lifeâor at least of
my
family life.
I
don't have to wait until my family's away to stay out until five in the morning. I can do that whenever I want.)
Three minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
And could you also meet up with me whenever you wanted? Irrespective of whether Bernhard was off in the mountains with the children for a week, or at home in the room next door (and could pop into your room anytime)?
Twenty minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
FINALLY, THE TRUTH IS OUT!!! You could have spared us that gloomy sermon a couple of days ago about our devastating first meeting and our shattered images of each other. That's not your problem at all, is it? Your problem is Bernhard. You think you're far too important to be playing second fiddle to him. You don't want to meet me because in reality there's no way you can get together with me, whether you actually want to or not. In email you can have me all to yourselfâin the virtual world we get along just splendidly, and you can switch from intimate to distant as you please. Am I right?
Forty-five minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
You haven't answered my question, Emmi. Would you (want to) meet me if your husband were sitting in the room next door? And (supplementary question) what would you tell him? Maybe, “Hey hon, I'm meeting up with this guy tonightâwe've been emailing each other for a year, usually several times a day from âgood morning' to âgood night.' He's often the first person to hear from me when I wake up. He's often the last person I speak to before I go to bed. And at night, when I can't sleep, when the north wind blows, I don't come to you, hon. No, I write this man an email. And he writes back. You see, in my head this guy is damn good protection against the north wind. What do we write about?
Oh, you know, personal stuff, just about us, about where the two of us would be if I didn't have you, hon, you and the kids. So, as I said, I'm meeting up with him tonight . . .”
Five minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
I never call my husband “hon.”
Fifty seconds later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Oh, I'm sorry, Emmi. Of course, you say “Bernhard.” That sounds much more respectful.
Four minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Don't be angry with me for saying this, Leo, but you have a woeful perception of a smoothly functioning marriage. Do you know what I'd say to Bernhard if I met up with you one evening? I'd say: “Bernhard, I'm going out tonight. I'm meeting a friend. I might be home late.” And do you know what Bernhard would say? “Have fun, enjoy yourselves!” And do you know why he'd say that?
One minute later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Because he doesn't care what you do?
Forty seconds later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Because he trusts me!
One minute later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Trusts you in what way?
Fifty seconds later
Re: Meeting “lite”
He trusts me not to do anything that might jeopardize our relationship, now or in the future.
Nine minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Oh yes, of course. You only expose yourself in your “other world,” which has minimal impact on your family. The real world remains untouched. Let's say you fell in love with me, Emmi, and I with you; let's say we had a romance, an affair, passion . . . call it what you want. Does that still mean you're doing nothing that might jeopardize your relationship with Bernhard now or in the future?
Twelve minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
You're making the wrong assumptions, Leo: I'm not going to fall in love with you!!! It's not going to develop into some romance, affair, or passion, whatever you want to call it! We're just going to meet up. Like you might meet up with an old friend you haven't seen for a long time. The only tiny difference being that it's not that you haven't seen the friend for a long time, but that you haven't set eyes on him at all. Instead of saying, “Leo, you look just the same,” I'd say, “So that's what you look like, Leo!” That's how it would be.
Eight minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
So you mean you'd be quite happy if it were just ME who fell in love with YOU, a one-sided thing. Then I'd spend my life sending you red-hot, infatuated, heartbroken emails. Followed by poems, songs, maybe even musicals and operas, all full of unrequited passion. Then you could tell yourself, Bernhard, or both of you, “You see, it was a good thing I met up with him that time.”
Forty seconds later
Re: Meeting “lite”
I think Marlene's got a lot to answer for!
Four and a half minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
Don't be so evasive, Emmi. Just for once this has absolutely nothing to do with Marlene. It's about the two of us, or the three of us, let's sayâyou can deny it all you like, but your husband
is
indirectly involved in some kind of way. And I simply don't believe it's coincidental that you want to meet up just now, when you've got your husband at a safe distance in the mountains.
Two minutes later
Re: Meeting “lite”
You're right, it's not a coincidence. I've got more time to myself this week. Time I'd like to spend with people I'm fond of. Time with friends, or with people who might become friends. Speaking of time, it's just after eight and I've got to go. Mia will be waiting. Have a nice evening.
Five hours later
Subject: Leo?
Hello Leo, any chance you're still awake? Will you join me for a glass of wine? Leo, Leo, Leo. I'm miserable.
Emmi
Thirteen minutes later
Re: Leo?
Yes, I'm still awake. Or rather, I'm awake again. I set my Emmi alarm clock. I've turned the volume of the new mail alert up to full and put the laptop next to my pillow. It just got me out of bed.
I knew you'd write again tonight, Emmi! How late is it, in fact? Ah, I see, just after midnight. You and Mia didn't last very long! (I'm not going to drink any more wine. I've already brushed my teeth. And wine after toothpaste is like having chicken noodle soup with your morning coffee.)
Two minutes later
Re: Leo?
Leo, I'm soooooo happy you've replied!!! How did you know I'd write again tonight?
Seven minutes later
Re: Leo?
1) Because you enjoy spending time with people you're fond of. Time “with friends, or with people who might become friends.”
2) Because you're at home on your own.
3) Because you feel lonely.
4) Because the north wind is blowing.
Two minutes later
Re: Leo?
Thank you for not being angry with me, Leo. I've been sending you some horribly mean-spirited emails. You're not just any old friend. You mean so much more to me. To me you are. You are. You are. You are someone who answers questions I haven't even asked: yes, I feel lonely, which is why I'm writing to you.
Forty seconds later
Re: Leo?
And how was it with Mia?
Two and a half minutes later
Re: Leo?
It was ghastly! She doesn't like the way I talk about Bernhard. She doesn't like the way I talk about my marriage. She doesn't like the way I talk about my family. She doesn't like the way I talk about my emails. She doesn't like the way I talk about my . . . the way I talk about Leo. She doesn't like the way I talk. She doesn't like the fact that I talk. She doesn't like. She doesn't like me.