It started simple enough.
She was an old
acquaintance; a friend of a
circle of friends I had
lost touch with... and a piece of my
high school past I actually
kept. She was a year my
junior, and two
grades behind. The
Internet is similar to a
grocery store in the sense that people you least expect to run into are
always there. This
scene begins away at
school. A
simple ICQ message started it off;
conversation once
sprouted, quickly spread, and we decided to get
together, as
friends.
Pool and
coffee were to be the
diversions; though my
aim is off, and my taste for
coffee wanes, the company was the
allure.
After I returned for a
vacation, she picked me up at my home. We were to
travel to a
pool club she played at
occasionally. I was quite
entertained, but there was no
magic per se. She said she
never laughed harder before in her
life. We played a
few rounds, told a few
jokes, and made a fun
evening for both of us. In the end, I got a hug and left.
It was back over the cloud that we spoke
next. We both
remarked on our
evening, and how much fun we both had.
Weeks went by as I spent time in the
semester, keeping up my work. Then she tells me she needs to get
something off of her
chest. It was so
embarrassing for her to tell, she made me
leave the room so she can write her thoughts and sign
off line. The message was
short, but it put me on quite a high.
I like you a lot Jay. I have ever since that night we played pool
She had a
crush on me, what an
interesting feeling.
Warmth of
feeling wanted comes over
anyone who hears that from a
stranger... a bit of self-worth and a smile creeps across
one's face. I honestly didn't
expect it. The prospect of a new
person in
my life always
thrilled me, whether
friend or more. Could this be a
relationship? What could
this be?
Weeks passed and we grew as friends...
Stories were told,
rumors were
exchanged, and gaps were filled in between
our lives to date. It is a great
feeling to have a person who feels "
invested" in you, and we make that
friendship stronger.
Internet relationships and
friendships have a
strange anticipation to them; you develop an idealized
attachment to people, and then it all lets out when you finally
meet. We decided to
find each other again, but I had a full set of things to do, and the
hour trip home wasn't easy to make save for
weekends. Then, I got a
message that
sunk out my heart.
I don't know how to tell you this; but I've met someone.
It's not that I was
in love with
her; I was more
intrigued by her
friendship and her
being. She was a
unique creature to be blunt;
kind,
sensitive, attractive in a way,
alternative in ways and
thought. She opened my
eyes to a lot in the few
short months I
spent with her. I was
single, but
intrigued. That's not really a way to describe the
feeling, but it's close.
His name is E***. He goes to your school. I met him over the internet.
That was a
queer feeling. A man I've seen and maybe even spoken to, worse yet
possibly knew was
dating her. Turns out he pushed for a
relationship fast, and he seemed like quite a
gentleman. There is a
sense of
regret that my own
reluctance pushed her into that
relationship. My
ignorance of
a woman's heart had done this
before, and has done it once since in my
future.
We meet again, and things are different, yet the same...
We got
together again, to head out to
Northampton. We
bomb around the city a bit, going to shops, getting some
lunch, and then to hang out over a friend's
house.
She brings me
home, and we sit parked outside my house, talking. I've always loved the
sound of a
female voice in
private with me. There is always something
sensual yet
clean about it; a way that
feels as of a
breath of
fresh air enters my lungs upon
hearing it. She leaned across the
seat against me, he head against my chest.
Her hair was black and coarse...
...As I ran my
fingers gently through it, she remarked on how good it
felt. I dared not go much
further, as she was now
taken by another
guy. We talked for what seemed like an hour, bathed in the
pale yellow glow of a
distant streetlight. Her
verbal enjoyment of the
affection was hard to
ignore, but I had to; it was the
right thing to do.
Temptation for me is itself a
vice; I always crave the
possibility and the
fantasy, but I must hold back. It is a
war I love to fight, even though I can never
win. We
drifted closer and closer together; her
teasingly gentle breath set my face
alive in a way I
craved in my
loneliness. It held me there,
mesmerized by the
simple sensuality; by then, it was too late.
Her kiss was soft and short...
Our lips just
touched a
second, but she took
my speech with her. I obviously didn't know
what to say. She
spoke for me, putting a finger to my lips: "Don't worry. I know you wouldn't
take advantage of me like that. It was my
decision. I felt I had to." Thoughts came
racing back into my head;
urges,
morality,
wanting,
loneliness,
desire,
ego,
sorrow; they all yelled until there was only a
loud din. I had only one way to
silence them all.
She tasted sweet and dry... like a dusty wine.
We kissed again.
Longer,
deeper,
fuller. This was not
love, nor
lust, nor
sex. It was a
deep friendship melding in a
gentle way a
hug could not give. That was the
closest I ever felt to her.
We left after that night, spending that
short time together. After that we drew apart, me
drifting away, moving to
Seattle, pulling away from a
friendship that
climaxed that night. It never felt right after that; I never wanted to be
more, but I never wanted to be
less either. Both of our
situations didn't
work together, and we knew it. It was a
stormburst of
feeling,
closeness, and
friendship; never to
shower on those
fields again.
But then I had to meet him.
A year
passed. We fell apart, then came back
together online. A
social message, an "
I miss your company", a few stories
swapped, and she was going to meet me at
school. She still
dated that
guy, though he did not
treat her well at all; and he himself was to pick her up from my
place. I had to meet
him, and that had me sick to my
stomach. Her
visit was only a few
hours; she spent some time there with me, had
lunch, and I got a friend's hug on the way out.
He greeted me gruffly, as if he shared my secret
She
insisted that he didn't know, but
guys have a
sense when a
woman isn't 100% with him. I finally met
him; I now knew his
figure, his
voice, the
look in his
eyes. There was a
look of
distrust, of
knowledge of my
participation in some crime against their relationship. It stung me
deeply, and she left
quickly, unaware of the
spiritual combat taking place. My life was quietly
cursed with the
memory of that
glare; when I saw him across the
library, on the way to a
class, or in a
restaurant. I don't know if he
recognized me after that day; but in his
heart of hearts, I don't think he'd
forget.
That was the last time I saw her.
Helping a girl cheat, took away
part of my soul. When
selfishness,
loneliness, and
temptation overcome you to do
something wrong, and to
possibly hurt another soul, it's a different
experience; it's hard to linger in that
bliss afterwards. While in the
moment it felt great, later it
faded quickly. He turned out to be bad for her, which made my position more
painful. I could have been
that person to rescue her; her
Knight. Did I cause her
pain or give her
hope? To this day, things
between us are
awkward.
I miss that moment of
friendship, that moment of
together, but I don't think we could ever have it
again. I
knowingly let her cheat with me, and for that I am
guilty too.