a man and his crayons

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somewhere around one year ago, i was deep in my bliss, writing and sending my christmas cards when, in a play to expand the gratification, i sent out a tweet asking something along the lines of “who wants one?” i had a few take me up on my offer, the most surprising of all was @hillie33. yes, that hillie, the man of my dreams.

at the time, i didn’t know it. until then we’d had very limited interaction, the majority of it surrounding the existence of his shiny gold flip phone and its inability to tweet accurately and efficiently. a man stepping forward requesting a christmas card seemed strange enough, but with the outright insistence on an exchange, not just getting one, but also sending one back, seemed unbelievable.

for days he swore he was putting crayon to paper and crafting the ultimate christmas card made especially for me. he tweeted teaser photos that he attempted to trick me into seeing, but i never gave in. though mutual friends did check them out and reported it really cute through all stages, i wasn’t going to ruin the surprise.

until it slipped through my mail slot, i’m not sure i believed it would actually ever come. sure enough, a few days before christmas (i think it may have been the day he left town for the holidays) there it was. and it was adorable.

when i think back to that time, to when i knew of him, but we hadn’t actually met, i remember that i always knew there was some kind of connection between us. we didn’t flirt, we just tweeted. and only publicly. still. i could feel it in every part of me…this guy gave me butterflies and made me tongue-tied and i had never even set eyes on him.

timing is everything and it just wasn’t right then. not until the new year will we see the anniversary of the first time we exchanged dms and, shortly after, text messages. for now, just the celebration of a sweet, sweet card from a virtual stranger.

the irony of this story is that, as doubtful as i was about his follow through, the card i sent him (the one to which i even added a drawing of my own,) never ever arrived at his address, nor was it returned to me. i am undoubtedly opening myself up for a repeat of the barrage of accusations that the card never existed and i probably won’t hear the end of it for a while. *i* know that i sent it and that is all that matters.

maybe santa didn’t bring me the mann cup that kevin wished my way, but he did leave a trail of breadcrumbs leading me to the most amazing man i’ve ever known.

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