How I met Nano.

My first date with Nano was in the summer of 2005. The two of us had known of each other for years -- such is life in a small town. But we hadn't spent much time together until that year. When I first noticed Nano, she was directing her fellow students in a high school play. I attended a performance because I had a brother in the cast and another brother in the crew.

After the performance, the director made an appearance on stage with the whole company. It was a moment (and there have been many of this kind since then) when I was really impressed by Nano. How she had worked so hard. How she had brought so much intelligence, talent, commitment, and leadership to a big project. How she had staged something so beautiful and wonderful.

Granted, the play was a team effort. And the team was a bunch of amateurs -- just kids really. And the play probably wouldn't play in Peoria, much less Broadway or the West End. Still, none of that matters when one has a crush on the director. To me, she was lovely, smart, and talented. It was the truth. She was the truth. She was. She still is, in fact. Everything she was and more.

But despite my interest in Nano, I almost chose not to ask her for a date. After all, she was in high school and I was in college. I wondered whether we would have much in common. Moreover, we lived hundreds of miles apart -- giving us fewer chances to date.

Plus, it can be rather awkward when I call someone's house to ask for a date and her mom or dad answers the phone. Before everyone had a cell phone, there was always a possibility that I might have to talk to a gatekeeper before my call was transferred. I am old enough to remember such a time. So I was thankful that Nano had a cell phone. No gatekeeper.

When I did decide to call Nano, I expected her to take my call. However, I considered the possibility that I might be leaving her a message instead. Because my voicemail messages tend to be notoriously long, stream-of-consciousness ramblings, I decided to put down on paper the words I wanted to leave for her ahead of time. All for the sake of brevity. Still, I hoped to impress her -- so I wrote her a sonnet (of course) -- which included my name and number -- to recite at the sound of the beep.

But there was no beep because Nano took my call. We talked, and we went on a date. We ate sushi at Jasmine and went to a bluegrass concert in the park.

Later, I gave her the poem that I wrote for her voicemail box. Such is English majors dating. Like writing a grocery list in iambic pentameter. Still, writing voicemail poetry was not out of proportion with either my interest in her or with my hope that she would go out with me. Furthermore, I believe that anyone who directs plays can appreciate poetry written for her. No matter how silly.

Nano and I went on many dates throughout the next two years. Then, we took a four-year break due to a Shakespeare-comedy-type of misunderstanding. I liked Nano. Nano liked me. But we each believed that the other one's like was on the wane. Discouraged, we drifted apart in 2007 and didn't have much contact with each other for the next four years.

Then, we met on Facebook in August 2011. That's right. Facebook. I sent Nano a friend request, and Mark Zuckerberg played Cupid. The following is our first correspondence in four years:

August 27, 2011

NANO: I'm really glad you found me in cyberspace, [Uno]. It's been forever. How have you been? Updates, man, updates!

August 31, 2011

UNO: I didn't know that you were hiding in cyberspace and that you wanted me to find you. But you were and you did. And I found you. Eventually. Sorry it took me so long.

Now I'll hide, and you can find me. Close your eyes, and start counting ... Since your eyes will be closed, you may need someone else to read you the rest of this message ...

Are your eyes closed, [Nano]? ... They are? Yes? Good.

So you want some updates, right? I could just dump out my update bucket right here right now, but if I did, I might give you some information that you already have already. Or I might leave out some information that may prove vital to you, perhaps even save your life. That would be worse.

So please tell me what you know or what you may have heard. I can provide the rest. For example:

I heard that you hiked the Appalachian Trail all the way to med school […]. And that you went to Australia or New Zealand or somewhere far like that.

Now it's your turn.

Ready. Set. Go.

August 31, 2011

NANO: [UNO] - I think you might be better at cyberspace hide and seek than I am. But I promise to play by the rules. No peeking. And I'll count all the way to 100-Mississippi. Don't go too far. Cyberspace is a big place and my legs are short and travel slowly.

I'm tempted by the promise of an update bucket. I have to wonder what kind of bucket we're talking here. Is this the sort of bucket one uses to build sandcastles at the beach? Or the sort of bucket one uses to douse a winning sports team coach with Gatorade? I think context and scale are important here.

That being said, what I have heard is this:

You are pursing another degree in the prestigious field of accounting at the esteemed MSU Business School. You recently spent some time in the great state of Georgia interning in said prestigious field. I hope you had some delicious peaches, and I hope military men named Sherman didn't come marching through with torches and talk of squelching Southern rebellion.

As for what you've heard about me, I'm afraid it's all true. I walked about 1600 miles of AT to get to medical school. Took the scenic route, you might say. I maintained a website chronicling said walk, which I think your dad kept up with. I also went to the "land down under." Or one of them at least. It's on the other side of the world. New Zealand was truly amazing. I highly recommend a visit to Middle Earth if you ever get the chance. As of now, I'm about a month into medical school and up to my eyeballs in cadaver fluids and more information about the bones, muscles and nerves than is healthy for one person to process. It's pretty overwhelming at times, but in a good way. Better than being underwhelmed.

I really am so glad to hear from you. I hope we can keep this up now that we've found each other in cyberspace. Tell me more about you. I want the update bucket.