Letter Eight: Of an Internet Friend

Ryan from Chatroulette

Dear Ryan,

Yes, I know we only talked once, and that was on Chatroulette, but I have to admit, you were more of a person than I expected.  You seemed like everything I needed in a guy, even though it is pretty desperate to start goin' after some guy you met on the web.  Still, I always thought you were cute, and when I found out how tall you were and how much pants you still had on, I felt nice.

The twenty minutes that we talked seemed a lot shorter now that I look back, because it was abruptly cut off by my idiot computer.  But honestly, we did talk about quite a bit.  My jerk-bag ex-boyfriend, who you sympathetically dissed with me, your "hopefully" useful Business major, along with the fact that you're a sophomore in college.  The way my room apparently looks like the inside of a college dorm, and how I bite my lip so much when I'm talking to a cute guy.  How you're six foot five and don't demand that girls yank off their shirts when they're talking to you on some random website.  How you don't like your smile, but I find it absolutely adorable.  Okay, maybe not the end of that part, but still.  A few things going through my mind that I didn't share were the fact that I found you absolutely gorgeous, with your height, your hat, and those ripped-a*s arms, the fact that when you left to retrieve your computer charger, returning with your pants on was considered a huge payment of respect, as opposed to all the d-bags on the site who whip out their weiners and jack off in front of my face.

My favorite part of our conversation was toward the end, when we started kinda flirting.  I liked that you were being flirty without being creepy.  I can still see your smile growing slowly across your face, and it makes me happy.  I think if maybe I'd gotten your Facebook, MySpace, or whatever, we could have talked more, and maybe it would have been something.  Or maybe not, who knows?  That's the charm of it all.

Thank you for not asking for my b***s,

Mia