I'm not looking for a relationship; I was just trying to have some e-mail fun.""E-mail fun? But his e-mail felt emotionally honest, and despite his obvious issues, I liked him. Within weeks, we were talking every day; that quickly developed into an obsessive six to eight hours a day. This guy had already managed to hurt me, in the space of just two weeks. We spoke for hours about everything, from our damaged childhoods to jobs to exes to first kisses.Over the next few months, my e-mails and calls with Jamie grew increasingly passionate."When we talk, I never want it to en —I want to totally merge with you," Jamie wrote. I like that we're different." And we different: I was a social butterfly, happiest surrounded by friends at a cocktail party; Jamie was an admitted introvert, with no interest in going out.The site offers users an “ice-breaker” email to help people get over their shyness and the site is also planning group events to make that first meeting less awkward.Currently, the site’s default is same-gender matching (if you want to meet both men and women, you can make that part of your preferences), and it’s GTA-centric, but Geimer hopes to expand across Canada and beyond.Turns out he was reasonably cute, and really funny. This went on for a couple of weeks until I said, "So, do you want to come to New York for a date? I canceled evening plans more than once just so I could go home, change into my pajamas, and curl up in bed with the phone. At some point, I again broached the subject of meeting with Jamie.
Sign-up and the personality quiz are free for the first month, and membership is per month thereafter. "Ever since my father died, I've been terrified to get too close to anyone..." The e-mail was long and apologetic, full of searing self-criticism and shamefaced confessions.The mere sound of Jamie's voice made my heart thump wildly. He said he'd like nothing more than to meet me but admitted he still felt scared. "You might not be attracted to me." In hindsight, I should have cut and run right then.When he wasn't in one of his moods, he lavished attention on me—standing proudly in the doorway as I practiced piano, praising my artwork, taking me for hair-raising spins on the back of his Yamaha motorcycle. Late at night, we would sit in his den, talking about art, politics, even sex.Being treated as my father's intellectual and emotional equal was heady stuff, and I'm guessing it was then that I developed a taste for the whispered intimacy of a forbidden nighttime chat."I want to know everything about you, and I want to share everything about me. But he wasn't some creepy pervert living in his mother's basement. I knew he was who he said he was because there were articles written about him. "Good." Soon, we were having phone sex every night.