Sarah: May 26, 2013
Here I am another memorial weekend without a boyfriend to snuggle with in front of the bonfire. I don’t know what Will is. Can I consider him my boyfriend? I feel like we’re dating. Neither of us is seeing anyone else, but how real can it be if we’ve never met?
Will and I connected online Thursday night and I shared my plans for the weekend up at the lake. I told him that it would probably be raining and cold like it always was on Memorial Day weekend. I would have given anything for him to say, “I’ll keep you warm.” No such luck. I told him I wouldn’t be able to meet up with him because there was no Internet at the cabin.
“How does that make you feel?” he asked. I knew he was making fun of me. One of my psych professors hammered that phrase into my head for two semesters and it slips out of my mouth more than I like to admit. It is really just an open-ended question to provoke discussion, but I must have written it more than once to Will.
“I’m screaming inside,” I answered.
Then he said something that really threw me off. “And that’s why I love you.” I stared at my computer screen in disbelief for a moment as I tried to figure out if his words meant anything. Normally I would have just let it go. People say stuff like that all the time. But that one line scrambled my brain and I didn’t know how to respond.
I must have paused too long because he added. “Just the reaction I wanted.” What did that mean? Was he being sarcastic? Was the reaction my hesitation or my screaming? Brain freeze!!! I decided that he must have meant my screaming and he was just clarifying his first statement. I moved on.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
“Working.”
“How does that make you feel?” I typed, trying to make him laugh.
“I’m screaming like a little girl inside,” he wrote.
“Now you’re mocking me.”
“Yep. How does that make you feel?”
“Shut up. Are you ever going to tell me what you do at your job?” I like that he gets my sense of humor. He seems to know exactly what I’m thinking. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
“Nope,” he answered after another long pause.
“Had to think about that one?” I asked.
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
“It doesn’t matter what you do. I would still like you even if you cleaned bathrooms for a living,” I wrote.
“So you like me?” he asked
“Obviously.”
Then some idiot that was not invited to our chat wrote, “I like you too, Sarah. Can I get a BJ too?” What an ass! The guy continued vomiting disgusting comments, one after another, as if he had listened to our entire conversation. We’ve never been interrupted in a private chat room before and even after we changed sites I couldn’t get the guy out of my head. I didn’t feel as free to open up online as I had before. I guess people like him are the reason why Will never wants to share our phone numbers or emails over the Internet. I just thought he was being paranoid, but I wouldn’t want that guy calling me. How are Will and I ever going to meet? It seems impossible.
Copyright 2014 Susan Schussler
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