The Meanest Thing I ever Did without Trying to be Mean.
The year was early 1994. I had my first medical job in a medium sized clinic, with about a dozen transcriptionists. One of them went through the Thursday paper with an eagle eye, looking for a man in the personals section. I started going through them as well, just for fun. I found one, from a woman, seeking a man. I know I’m not a man. She did not. I told her the truth about everything else in my life except my gender, thinking, foolishly, that she would not care.
I wrote every single day, and came home every single day to a letter from her. She found me funny, charming and did not want to meet right away. She was slightly overweight and thought I would not find her attractive. She had a daughter, I had a daughter; we exchanged photos of them and then sent the photos back to each other with the return mail.
One day her letter to me said, “Georg, I think I’m falling in love with you. I know we haven’t met but you’re everything I’m looking for in a man.”
I wrote back, “Well, my friends call me Georg but that isn’t actually my name. It’s ________”. She wrote back, “I don’t understand.”
My next letter must have broken her heart. “I’m a woman. I was hoping it would not matter to you as I’m still the same person.” She sent back nothing. No more letters came. I sent flowers to the address. Still nothing. I sent apology notes. Nothing. I drove to the return address and found the apartment empty.
End of story. I would like to say that she sent me a letter, forgiving me, but that would be fiction and this blog is about the truth.
Dear lady whose name I no longer remember, I am so sorry I hurt you, so very very sorry. I was young, I didn’t know I would hurt you like I did. I still believe I’m as good as any man you could ever have found. All my best, Georg.