I can take apart the remote control, and I can almost put it back together.

I have a Myspace friend.
Doesn't that sound creepy?
I suddenly feel like a 13 year old girl who has a sexual predator just by saying that.
The powers of Myspace are vast.

Anyway, I've had this same friend for 3 years. I have met him once, by accident, while I was drunk. He lives in the same town as me and he's about 8 years older than me. I have no idea what he does for a living but his side business is artwork. He knows what I do for a living but still likes to pretend I'm a body building midget who is 43 and divorced.
Because that's what my profile says I am.

Anyway, one day he was pursuing the internet after moving to Indiana from Philadelphia and decided that maybe Myspace would be one way to see what people looked like in this town. He started searching, and came across my profile from a mutual friend of ours (I worked with her at the time, he lived with one of her best friends). Intrigued by midgets in Indiana, he sent me a messaged asking if I worked in a local circus and asked if the girl in the profile picture was my sister. I responded with "Yes, she is my twin sister and I work actually as the world's first ever midget tight rope walker."
He had me at circus.
I started sending him messages him once every week and he did the same in return. Sometimes the messages were all about random nonsense. Other times we'd talk about friends, family, significant others.
A year after "meeting" him, I went to a local bar with my friends. I saw the girl that was our mutual friend. I froze turned to look at the table she was leaving from, and locked eyes with him.
Complete movie magic.
I walked over to him.
He said, "You don't look like a midget."
I mumbled something about how the internet is a fun place to lie on.
"You sleep on the internet?"
Nervous laugh.
And at some point very close after that, I left saying I had to hang out with my friends.
We didn't talk for 6 months.
No more e-mails or random meetings.
It was my fault. He was a lot cuter in real life and I got nervous and crashed landed at my friend's table that night.
I told myself it didn't matter because I had a boyfriend who I cared about.
6 months later I didn't care about that boyfriend.
I sent him a message.
Another 1.5 years of messages, sometimes frequent, sometimes a month apart in space.
When I get, "Do you have any cool witty friends like yourself that like to drinK that would love to be entertained by me?"

What about myself?