Echos of a dating past

Today I went searching through some VERY old emails (like, when I first got myself a brand new gmail account in ’06), looking for photos of my old apartment. Of course I got caught up in blowing the virtual dust off of old correspondences, and unearthing pixelated cell photo photos emailed to my inbox via Verizon’s PIX-FLIX Messaging service! (Over zealous punctuation courtesy of Verizon.) Then I stumbled upon this one single email from a guy I was dating right around the time I met Aaron. From what I remember he was a scientist turned writer (and now maybe turned actor?) and he was a great dude. Only I had a few hangups because he was divorced, he smoked, and lived in Las Vegas. I ended up sticking with Aaron, who had never been married, quit smoking for me, and lived in Burbank.

SO not the point of this post though! The thing is, I found the last interaction between myself and Dave — an email that he wrote that it seems I never responded to (no idea why). And it made me smile. Here’s the last part of the email that inspired this post. It showed me how far I have come from that confused-but-still-happy Megan of 2007, and yet, I don’t think I’m that much different in 2012:

Yeah, it was a very short while we hung out, but that’s still the most fun I’ve ever had perusing a bookstore with someone. What up with you? I remember your photophilia and fun-veiled wisdom. I remember reading on your blog a long time ago how you entered a time of being self-destructive and exited not with a sense of terror or victimhood, but simply knowing you hadn’t yet learned enough about how to live, how to step up and be an adult. That’s brave genius, and I still think about it all the time. You’re still thinking that way, right? I am. All the cool people are thinking that way in 2007. Happy New Year, lil’ Megan!

I love that. Thanks Dave, wherever you are.

And for those of you who are curious, I think he was talking about this post.

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