“Hey Kid, are you staying on the sidewalks?”

“Thank You” Mr. Gatz, for caring.

This is not a love story and yet, it IS a love story, too.

We met on Twitter. He made a funny comment, I responded.

We talked about writers, specifically Richard Brautigan and his reaction when he realized that I knew “who” Richard Brautigan was made me laugh: “Holy fucking shit, you know who Richard Brautigan is” — even now, to this day, just thinking about it, still makes me smile. As we began to chat more and learn about each other, we realized that we had much in common, even though he lived on Long Island and I…did not live on Long Island. I think it’s fair to say that we made (and still make) each other laugh and through these many years I have learned the innate and immense value of shared laughter with another.

There’s a story behind how he came to send me a vintage bottle of 1998 Dom Perignon and another vintage bottle of Piper Heidsieck champagne. But, most importantly, for me, is another story: the story of how a stranger across the miles helped to heal and mend my broken heart after a rather harrowing break up with an academic and published poet that I had been engaged to.

He reminded me of the sheer unadulterated giddiness of my girlish teenage years. Oh, how wonderful it was to be “wooed” and to flirt with another. He helped to reanimate my broken spirit and to remember what it CAN be like to open my heart to another (and conversely, to NOT have it trampled upon).