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This is a question Will you go out with me?

"Bloody Kraut, a" asks, "How did you get your current flame to go out with you? If they turned you down, how bad was it?"

Was it all romantic? Or were the beer goggles particularly strong that night?

(, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 17:32)
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Another attempt at asking someone out in writing
Following on from my previous post, I just thought I'd let you know how my writing love-messages skills have improved over the years. The year was 2001. The Internet and text-messaging had made huge strides into our everyday lives. I had been trying Online Dating for some time. Eliza (not her real name) was the third woman I met in the real world through the system, and the second one I developed a crush on.

Because she lived in a different country (it was somewhere in Europe), we did not have much chance to see each other. I visited her in her country and came back to England wishing I had never left (the crush took some time to settle in). I really wanted to see her again but did not have an opportunity to do so.

Three months later, it was Valentine's Day 2002. As a symbol of defiance against commercialism, I decided to not buy anything and instead, write a poem from the heart.

Unlike the letter from the previous post, this poem got delivered.
The poem is contained in the first reply to this story.
(, Thu 4 Sep 2008, 2:57, 4 replies)
The poem.
A bit of background first. Within a day of our correspondence starting, we created a fictional universe where we had superhero powers and fought crime. I ended up being a bar of chocolate with a secret superhero identity and she was a sexy weathergirl. Our enemies were the dreaded newsreaders bringing down the population with messages of doom and gloom. She would use her weather forecasts to hide secret messages, which I'd watch and interpret and use to save the world. We had a volley of such 'episodes' for a while.

As usual, typos have been preserved, and the names (not our real names, but the pet names we called each other) have been censored.

<*****> I love you to bits!
Your breeze on my chunks hits and hits!
So instead of calling it quits,
I'll send this and see how it fits.

I met a playful little breeze,
That I'd like to squeeze and squeeze.
Control'd departed from my knees.
Oh, how I wished it was a chocolate-sneeze!

We spiral into eachother without a clue.
What I really want to do is dive in to you.
The "Great White Thing" - just me and you.
Resistance is futile. We'll be one, not two.

From a point of silver light we'll grow.
A single ball of loveliness shall glow.
Up and up it shall go.
And light the cosmos, it shall be so.

My heart is leaking at a pace.
Without you, it leaks into space.
Instead it should leak in your place,
And yours should leak on my base.

Accross the Ethers we reach out and touch.
In my mind's eye I miss you much.
But it's not quite the same as together-being, as such.
You I'd like to see, hear, smell, taste, and touch.

Eachother's passion we embraceed - that's just.
So eachother ourselves we should embrace ... with lust...
Or bust.
Oh ye playful little gust!

I'll let you re-arrange my chunks,
And even tap into my spunk.
So have fun with your hunky hunk,
And we shall dance the funky funk.

I await your forecast for our future.

<******> - Your Knight in chocolate-wrapper armor.

(, Thu 4 Sep 2008, 2:59, closed)
As well as sending the poem by e-mail, I also sent her a virtual exploding Valentine's teddy-bear by e-mail (to a different e-mail address) (I had to hack the EXE to change the message - this contrasted nicely with composing poetry from the soul and briefly placed me in a domain I felt more at home in). I didn't go to bed until 4:30am on Valentine's day morning, but managed to make it to the office by 9:15am the next day, and I even sent her a text-message before I got to work.

Initially, she responded positively and absolutely adored the poem. Unfortunately, when it came to finding out her response to what I was trying to say, she was evasive at first, but in the end, I asked her directly, but just gave a brief and cryptic comment to say she wasn't looking at the moment and tried to move the conversation onwards.

After a pause, we spent a lot of time chatting on MSN Messenger. I got to visit her again a few months later. I'm leaving that experience for another QOTW.

Apologies for anticlimax.
(, Thu 4 Sep 2008, 3:00, closed)
Rhyming chunks, spunk, hunk and funk is a brave thing my man.
(, Thu 4 Sep 2008, 8:21, closed)
You did miss the obvious rhyme in the first stanza though...
(, Thu 4 Sep 2008, 8:23, closed)

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