IC Contact Post

[mathemagier]

[Screened calls go straight to voicemail, where an impatient recording answers]

You've reached Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. Leave your name, number, and business if you expect a return call. Thank you.

Comments

[mathemagier]

Well we were both rather disillusioned during those few years we fell out of contact. I would have talked about how it's often propagated that there's 'one' person in the world that's perfect for everyone. When in fact, when relationships end, there are always new ones to be made. Perhaps it is not the same kind of love, as remarried widower types will often say- but it's no less for it.

The drift is heavily romanticized of course- for good reason I suppose- but pilots can be compatible with more than one person. There are several arguments there, particularly where limited data sets are concerned, but it only would have served as an example.

[driftsintobuffetline]

Wait wait.

Doctor Gottlieb - Are you telling me you believe the hype? You believe the theory of The One? Come on, Hermann. Have you considered that maybe we're just those really awkward numbers--One. Maybe we're 1, and we've literally only got a factor of one. But maybe some people are 8, with 4 factors. And some people are Prime with two factors.

I've lost the analogy, but you get the basic idea.

Maybe we're just really WEIRD. Maybe we're just so dysfunctional there's literally only one person we can function with.

NOT THAT ONE IS A DYSFUNCTIONAL NUMBER
Whoa shit, maybe that's how The One works. I mean, not that there's any credibility to that, but I just. It's ironic, right? I'm trying to tease you about the who notion of The One and I didn't even plan that factor analogy...and yet there's 1, that sneaky bastard.

Anyway, who knew Hong Kong would turn you into a romantic. I've broken you. I've broken you forever, Hermann. I am SO sorry.

[mathemagier]

No, I am not saying that. But most won't see the difference. That is a lovely analogy, but also not quite.

We are dysfunctional. Our index scores are proof enough of that. We're not the only ones of course, but Newton.

I do think our relationship- in any context, whether it's romantic, platonic, or combative- is irreplaceable. Yes, I could have other friends, possibly a different love interest in another world, but that wouldn't change the importance of your influence.

[driftsintobuffetline]

You're going to drag me down into that inescapable pit of sap you're stuck in. For a man with no great love for the lies of poetry, you string together a pretty poetic phrase. That paragraph alone is better than any love poem I've ever read.

I will admit defeat: I'm not as eloquent as you, but I meant what I said in Hong Kong. And to say I'm glad to have met you understates everything that we are, and I pity the Newton Geiszler who somewhere, in some universe, has to go through his stupid life without you in it.

[mathemagier]

Well you did ask.

And I know you meant that. You know I wasn't going to tell you. I'd only just realized it after you gave me the watch. I thought it was most definitely too soon. But then of course you say that and well I certainly wasn't very eloquent then. A gift I may only possess in text form, it seems.

[driftsintobuffetline]

I did.

You know you didn't have to tell me? Not that I knew, I didn't--I knew you liked me, but I wasn't sure you-well, you know. I just mean, no pressure. You didn't have to say it back. Or not really back, because I didn't say it in those words, exactly, but.

Was it too soon? I mean, it just kind of came out and then there you go, it's out and proud and-- I almost told you a dozen times--but you know, telling a guy you love him on the first date seems a bit desperate, right--? Hell, after the first time, that's kind of a no, too. Or telling him when he's still standing there holding your coffee when you come back with your phone--or when you're watching him fold his sweater vests and arrange them by some system you don't fully understand but are pretty sure has to do with something obscure like thread-count...

Wow. Sorry, Hermann. This is what you're stuck with. A nerd who likes watching you fold your fucking laundry.

[mathemagier]

For the record, I'm going to maintain that you did say it first.

[And for the rest, there's just this warm, touched feeling]

I don't know, those last two sound ideal to me.

I had no idea you felt that way for so long. It seems like something I should have been aware of. But that may have been for the best. It took me some time after all. I'm glad for your patience.

And it's really not that complex: they go in the order I decide I'll wear them.

[driftsintobuffetline]

Oh good. Good. They are pretty damn ideal, aren't they--I could totally go for getting to say those words just any old time.

I'm just glad you came around.

That's it??? Now, see, you've ruined the mystery. There's nothing left for me to fantasize over. I'm sorry, Hermann. The magic is gone from our relationship. (Seriously? You PLAN your outfits IN THE DRAWERS? God, I'm dating a dork. I am dating the biggest fucking dork to ever exist.)