I almost fell out of my chair when I read an email this morning. I didn't recognize the name of the sender, but it was somehow familiar. Hesitantly, I clicked it open. It was Ariadne from the Paris Fashion Week party. Her name is actually Andreia. All the letters and sounds were there A A D E I N R. A perfect anagram, escpecially considering the unusual spelling.
Maybe this is why dreams are useless for picking winning lotery numbers. With their strange synchronistic properties, even if sometimes there is really something there, there is always just enough wrong. Maybe the digits are reversed, the date is wrong, or the location is wrong. In the long run it is no better than guessing.
She didn't tell me how she found my name or email address, but she sounds sure she knows that it is me. No, my memory of the conversation is not faulty, I never told her my name, and that was verified in the email. She never told me hers, also verified. She hinted that she went to some trouble to contact me.
She must have somehow gotten the guestlist for the party and emailed everybody with a name that looked american (nearly 1000) or soemthign.
This after I have finally stopped thinking about her all day. I don't know if I should reply. As sick as I was these past two weeks, if I see her again, it will start all over. Worse, if we somehow have a relationship, she will be able to control me. I had become completely infatuated and obsessed with her, while she feels absolutely nothing for me. The relationship would be one-sided, with me being the one who anxiously waits for her to get off work or call, while she busies herself with her job or her hobbies and only thinks of me as an after thought when she's finsihed with all of the things she would rather be doing. All of my past relatioships as bad as they were, I have never been in that position. Just like I did nothing to find her. I could have hacked into the computer that had the guest list for the party and tried emailing all of the women on the list.
As a designer specializing in arcology or something, on the surface, she could possibly meet thoe rewuirements, (artistic, has a higher IQ than me, keeps herself in good physical condition, but not violent when somebody disagrees with her). I have no idea if she is smarter than me, but she was able to track me down somehow. Something still bothers me. She might be the woman of my dreams, but I'm afraid she's not a dreamer. She was never in any of my dreams. I've got to be picky after all of the bad experiences I've had.
Maybe this is why dreams are useless for picking winning lotery numbers. With their strange synchronistic properties, even if sometimes there is really something there, there is always just enough wrong. Maybe the digits are reversed, the date is wrong, or the location is wrong. In the long run it is no better than guessing.
She didn't tell me how she found my name or email address, but she sounds sure she knows that it is me. No, my memory of the conversation is not faulty, I never told her my name, and that was verified in the email. She never told me hers, also verified. She hinted that she went to some trouble to contact me.
She must have somehow gotten the guestlist for the party and emailed everybody with a name that looked american (nearly 1000) or soemthign.
This after I have finally stopped thinking about her all day. I don't know if I should reply. As sick as I was these past two weeks, if I see her again, it will start all over. Worse, if we somehow have a relationship, she will be able to control me. I had become completely infatuated and obsessed with her, while she feels absolutely nothing for me. The relationship would be one-sided, with me being the one who anxiously waits for her to get off work or call, while she busies herself with her job or her hobbies and only thinks of me as an after thought when she's finsihed with all of the things she would rather be doing. All of my past relatioships as bad as they were, I have never been in that position. Just like I did nothing to find her. I could have hacked into the computer that had the guest list for the party and tried emailing all of the women on the list.
As a designer specializing in arcology or something, on the surface, she could possibly meet thoe rewuirements, (artistic, has a higher IQ than me, keeps herself in good physical condition, but not violent when somebody disagrees with her). I have no idea if she is smarter than me, but she was able to track me down somehow. Something still bothers me. She might be the woman of my dreams, but I'm afraid she's not a dreamer. She was never in any of my dreams. I've got to be picky after all of the bad experiences I've had.
