Do I know you?

"Trisa, do I know you?" said the email, not from an ex, just from someone I'd been interested in. Someone who blew me off at the time, saying a long distance thing wouldn't work out. "We haven't done anything together that friends don't do," he told me. Do friends forget each other so easily?

Maybe I can help him remember. Maybe he's such a studly man-ho that meets so many women he'll never be able to keep us straight. I don't know, but Mafioso, this is for you:

We've sent each other a hundred emails. We've called each other's houses and cell phones. You called me twice from a friend's wedding to tell me you wish I were there. You would call during your commute home and we'd talk til 1 or 2 in the morning. I flew across the country, spending $500 to meet you. We went to the wedding reception together. You have a picture of me, for God's sake! Do you know me?

One thing's for sure, I sure as hell don't know you.