But the FBI is about to make it public anyway, so I want to come clean. To ensure that the truth is revealed and that a special time in my life isn’t soiled by the media.
It all started as a stupid joke, to be honest.
I was reeling from the departure of The Girl Who Moved Away, and I might have had a glass of wine to help me deal with my broken heart.
I rarely drink, and I’m an incredible lightweight, so after half a glass of wine, I was ridiculously tipsy.
The news was on. Some special report about the Secretary of State doing this, that, or the other thing. To be honest, I don’t remember much.
Like I said, I had a drink and the woman I loved had just moved halfway across the country to chase her dream. Without me.
So when the talking head on the nightly news kept rambling on about the Secretary of State, and I saw her familiar smiling face on my television, I thought I’d have a little fun to distract me from how sad I was.
It’s even easier to send an immature email that read something like: “Since you’re the secretary for all states, could you fetch me a coffee and bring it to Maine?”
What I didn’t expect was an almost immediate response. From the woman herself.
“Sure. How could you like it? Poured over your sexist head, or down your pants?”
Since I was tipsy, lonely, and took that second option to be a little flirtatious, I decided to write back.
Apparently, Secretary Clinton was having a really rough day and needed the mindless distraction, and we ended up exchanging emails ’til the wee hours of the morning.
And that’s how it all began.
It really was just a harmless flirtation. Almost more of a pen pal situation with slightly naughty tidbits sprinkled in for spice. My girlfriend was off in the Midwest pursuing a new life without me. Madam Secretary was often off in the Middle East pursuing a new way of life and a lasting peace for total strangers.
My work reminded me of The Girl Who Worked With Me Before She Moved Away, so I needed a distraction and was desperate for any female attention.
We just happened to be in the right place at the right time when we each needed someone to be there.
We knew it could never be more than an email exchange. Her work never brought her to Maine, so there was no excuse for us to “innocently” run into each other at an event. I never found myself at State Dinners or in the middle of an international crisis.
So we just emailed whenever we could. We never even spoke on the phone.
It was all email.
Thousands of them over about a year and a half.
All of them now stored on a private server.
Emails to which the FBI now has access.
Yet they are now about to become public.
Why do bad things happen to good people who innocently want to flirt via email?
I’m sorry, my dear, sweet SOS. Just know that my words won’t lose their meaning simply because the entire world will now be able to read them.
Guess we should’ve thought this out a bit more, but who has time to think when it comes to matters of the heart? Or state security?
Stay strong. Be well. You are in my thoughts.
You don’t need a private server to follow me on Pinterest…