RAISE YOUR HAND if you saw that coming. Did you? If you did, you're keener than I, because I got hit over the head with the what the fuck stick REAL hard. Like this:
That Rafiki's a real asshole. Also the Lion King is the best movie ever made, no questions.
Because I jumped ahead a little, let's back up a second shall we? When William sent me the link to the Facebook page of our culprit, I stared at my screen, slackjaw and speechless, one hundred percent blindsided by what I'd just been told.
You've GOT to be kidding me. I've been talking to a GIRL? A GIRL!?! I couldn't believe it was possible - couldn't believe I'd been been fooled this badly. I struggled to comprehend the hows and whys of the unfolding conclusion to my dramatic internet romance, still unable to process the truth behind Tucker. How did she pull this off? How did I fall for it? How had she carried on so long without slipping up? And, most troublingly, WHY did she pretend to be this man?
William, bless his heart, was acting as our liaison, skipping back and forth between my conversation with him, and his with Hannah. He tried calming me down, knowing how irate I was at this imbicile who had so skillfully duped me into falling for her online persona. I was furiously texting Hannah, threatening to involve authorities and demanding I know every last detail of her secret life as Tucker Evans. William begged me to take a deep breath, reminding me we were dealing someone who, whether we liked it or not, was connected to his family via his younger brother. This wasn't simply a random act of internet fraud - the perpetrator was someone who KNEW this family, and wasn't easily shrugged off as a psychopathic freak.
I actually grew angry at William. How could he possibly defend this monster? Hours before, he was determined to hunt down the man behind this impostor situation and end it once and for all - but now, he was asking me to retract, to cut her some slack, and to let it go. Let it go? How could I possibly walk away from the biggest act of deceit I'd ever experienced? How could HE walk away, when it was his name that was attached to this fabricated character? I didn't understand why no one seemed to be as upset as I was over this situation. I didn't understand why I was suddenly alone, at the end of this journey, with nothing to show for it.
After numerous attempts to garner an explanation from Hannah, I came to terms with the fact that I would not be receiving the answers I'd hoped for. I would never know how she did it, how many people she lied to, or how she got away with it for so long. While she did explain pieces to me, after I began my "let's be friends" approach, I still never fully got the hows and whys I so desperately needed to hear. I knew the end of the story, but I felt like the culmination was incomplete. There were still questions, and a disconcerting lack of answers.
A few days passed after the revelation of Tucker's true identity. I had some time to go over what I'd learned, and to try to come to terms with the whole thing. My close friends were godsends, listening to me rehash the whole story time and again, grasping for any sort of comfort in finally having the truth. I still struggled with the unanswered questions, despite everyone around me seeming to be content with closing the book on Tucker. I needed to know why. I needed to know how. I needed to find the beautiful man in those photos and tell him what was going on. Perhaps the draw to my mystery man was the one piece of the puzzle I still needed to uncover before I could fully accept and move on from this bizarre tale. I set out to find him, determined to uncover his identity no matter how long it took. I found Hannah, so it couldn't be that hard to find someone who ACTUALLY existed, right?
I hadn't talked much with Hannah since the day she confessed and apologized. I was frustrated still, and wanted to distance myself from her as much as possible. No matter how much I wanted to erase her from my life, though, she was the only chance I had at ever uncovering the identity of my future husband. I texted her, inquiring about the status of her promised confession to this man, hoping to reignite our previous conversation about his identity. Surprisingly, it worked.
Hannah couldn't stop gushing about Tucker (as he was referred to in our conversations). She told me about his friendship with her brother in law and sister, and mentioned multiple times what a close friend he was of her and her family. She often referred to him as her "big brother", and seemed to talk about him as though she had some girly childhood crush. She wistfully wished she was older, or he was younger, as she would have pursued him, she claimed. Hannah couldn't stop talking about what a wonderful person he was - an honest, good, loving man who had great friends and family, and lived a wonderful, happy life. It was strange to hear her talk about him - it was exactly how I'd pictured Tucker when I first came across his dating profile. The way Hannah spoke of him was nearly identical to the way I'd spoken of him to my friends all those weeks ago. I can't describe exactly the emotions I felt during this conversation, but intrigue and excitement most certainly topped the list. The further she gushed, the more I became determined to find him.
I managed to coyly sneak in an inquiry about his relationship status, and felt my heart race when she gleefully reported he was single. That was the only thing I needed to hear, and Mission: Uncover Tucker was full speed ahead. I only needed a name - first name, last name, anything. I needed a clue. I had all the information from the dating profile, but without a name, I had nothing.
This wasn't the first time I'd looked for Tucker's photogenic face. I'd tried everything - searching through Auburn Baseball rosters for old photos, looking through Auburn alumni pages for a snapshot of MBA grads. I went so far as to use a website designed to help photographers protect their copywritten images - a website that performs a "reverse image search", looking for places where identical pictures are posted on the internet. None of Tucker's pictures turned up any results - no Facebook page, nothing. Without his name, I'd reached yet another dead end, and I wasn't going to just walk away now. I'd worked so hard, and come so far, I could feel the real ending just beyond my grasp, and you'd better believe I was going to get there.
It took hours of texting Hannah, buttering her up, reassuring her I wasn't angry with her and had moved on, promising to defend her to a very angry Megan. I sweet talked her like nobodies business and she was slowly turning into putty in my hands, answering more and more questions about my future husband and continuing her gushfest over how absolutely perfect and incredible he was. The more she glorified him, the more I told her exactly what she needed to hear to make her feel like I was on her side. I promised Hannah I trusted her to make her confession to Tucker on her own, that I simply needed to put a name to a face for my own sanity. I begged her from the bottom of my heart, playing on her need for forgiveness and explaining that I just couldn't fully forgive, forget, and move on until I came to peace with the identity of this person. It took hours, but she caved. Finally, after days of searching and manipulating the person who'd put through hell, I had a name. Hannah only gave me a first name, as she knew I couldn't resist the urge to find him and tell him everything. Clearly she forgot who she was dealing with, and it never occurred to her that a first name was the only thing I needed to unlock this mystery.
Armed with a name - Blake - I returned to my stalkings, fully prepared to finally find the man who may or may not be my unknowing soulmate. PS, can we talk about how weird that is? Can you imagine receiving a message from a total stranger, informing you they know everything about you and fully intend on marrying you someday? God I'm a creep. Anyway, my first step was right back to Auburn Baseball. There's a nifty website called FanBase that allows you to search rosters for most major college sports teams, and thankfully Auburn was a prominent enough school, that the last 30+ years of baseball rosters were available. As it turns out, there is not a single "Blake" who played baseball at Auburn. Ever. Strike One. I decide this must be the part where Hannah padded his dating resume a tad, and the man actually never set foot in a dugout. My next shot was the MBA graduating classes at Auburn, where his profile told me he'd earned the aforementioned degree. I combed the alumni site, the College of Business site, the Auburn Grad School site - anywhere a name or picture might turn up to give me a last name to go by. Nothing. Searching Auburn's general website with that first name turned up results that got me nowhere. Strike Two.
I began to question how much of the dating profile was even true. Clearly Hannah was a pathological liar, so even though she assured me the information was accurate, I began to get a sinking feeling that it wasn't. His degree and career weren't the reason I fell for him. I really could care less if he played baseball, although I wouldn't be mad if he trotted out the old college uniform a time or two...cowboys and baseball players - tight pants, don't hate it. Emo guys in skinny jeans, this rule does not apply to you. Lay off the eyeliner, freaks. Neither of these things was the reason I fell for him, no - but if that was false, what else was? Did he have a great relationship with his family like he claimed? Did he go to church and love Jesus? Was he a fan of the outdoors and laid back country life? How much of this guy was a lie? I felt defeated, for the umpteenth time, and started to accept the fact that I would never know who this handsome stranger was.
Late one Saturday night, days after giving up hope during my intial Blakefest, in the midst of an Always Sunny marathon on the floor of a dear friend's home, I got the strange urge to look for Blake again. I turned, this time, to trusty Facebook. If anything could help me track this man down, it was that. I had a name and a face in my satchel, and a whole lot of nothing else to go on when I clicked on the "search" button. "Blake" was the only thing I typed in - it was all I had. Facebook gave me a list of people I might know, but of course he wouldn't be amongst them. Let's not forget I'm a total stranger here folks. I narrowed my search to "people", eliminating fan pages, celebrities, restaurants and bands, and leaving me with only personal facebook pages. From there, I had the luxury (God bless you, Facebook) of further narrowing my search by three options: location, education, and work place.
I attempted to narrow my search to Georgia, but clearly was swamped with results far too numerous to wade through. I typed "Rome, Georgia" into the location field, and pulled up a shortened list, but was disappointed to find no one who looked like they resembled Captain Sexy. I decided to forego the location route, and focus on the education track. I already knew he didn't play baseball at Auburn, and seemingly didn't get an MBA there either, so I wasn't too hopeful when selecting the University from my search options. Again, I was presented with a list longer than the mangy hair of 90% of the OWS protestors. Why the hell did EVERYONE who had a male child in the south, between 1987 and 1992 name their child Blake? RUDE. My final chance in this arena was the additional option to enter a graduation year. Would he have chosen his undergrad year? His MBA grad year? Would he even have entered a year? I hadn't on my page, why would he? A little math told me 2003 was my go-to, and I plugged it in.
Four listings appeared.
Sure as shit, there he was. Staring back at me with those familiar blue eyes and crooked smile. My heart was palpitating (Mrs. Tyink, I hope you're reading this) and I got that same sweaty palms, might throw up, butterflies doing the Thriller dance in my stomach kind of feeling. Here he was. I FOUND HIM.
...now what?
1 comment:
Oh my GOD!
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