Hi. Doc Johnson in the house... pull up a chair... take a deep breath... and listen...
I’m talking to you. You know who you are. Yeah, YOU! What the hell did you think would happen when you consistently planned your private quiet time so that you could log onto a chat site? Did you think you were safe hiding behind a keyboard? That your fears and unhappiness and emotions wouldn't be sitting there with you? That you would simply confess your desires to strangers and remain detached?
Granted, there are some out there who can heartlessly pretend to be involved and caring. But not you. You put on a good act of being aloof and distant but in the end even you have to admit they got to you. Not all of them. But a few. Especially the one.
To the one you gave all. Every desire, every fantasy, every painful truth about yourself. You shared what only someone who cared would do. Even private details about how unhappy you are with your life. Your loneliness. Your home life. Your work. Your many nights of unbearable sadness.
Always there. Listening to your every word, promising to be there for you, responding every time you emailed or pinged on Yahoo. The one you chose to be your online friend and lover kept the bond strong and vital. Kept you coming back for the comfort and the company you so missed and needed.
It became a fairy tale just at the edge of reality and you gladly romped among the colored flowers and clouds, thinking only of the rewards and not the jeopardy. After all this was online and it meant nothing. Right? Just pretend people with pretend feelings. So, ask yourself then, why does it hurt? There’s not supposed to be hurt when you pretend. What’s that all about?
Suddenly the colored flowers and clouds have morphed into a dimly lit room, wall to wall carpeting and a laptop now too bright for your eyes. Somehow while you were pretending you exchanged email addresses, pictures of each other, cellphone numbers, and private addresses. You even have other online friends in common who know of your strong bond.
It doesn't take much. Only the slightest amount of fear. Reality is like the back of the hand across your face. Truth turns into lies. Trust is lost. Hearts are broken. The only thing left is you trying to catch your breath and the ache in your stomach when you realize you have lost something you once cherished.
What seemed like forever was really just a few days. A few weeks. Maybe even a few months. Life online is accelerated. You cram a relationship into minutes or hours each day and expect it to follow normal rules. It doesn't. There really is only one rule. You already know what it is. When you say “I love you” it isn't pretend anymore.
The heart has many chambers. Each “I love you” takes its rightful place in a chamber all its own. When an “I love you” dies, so does that piece of the heart. For both people. No one survives.
The world has grown smaller. Everyone on the face of the earth is right at your fingertips. Billions of people. Did you really think you could access that kind of power without consequences? That in a dimension of lines and planes and waves of energy that a mere keyboard was a shield? There are patterns and constants even within random chaos. The moment your avatar came onto the screen you became vulnerable.
You can’t open a door without expecting visitors. Going online to chat is a casino filled with bright lights, loud music and beautiful people. Getting caught up in the moment is easy to do and often pleasure in its purest form. It’s the one you bring home with you that changes the game. The one who shares your secrets and most private thoughts.
What do you do with someone who knows more about you then anyone else in the world? Someone you would gladly marry? Jump into bed with? Change your life for? Someone you have never even met. What do you do with that one?
There are only two choices. Let them go. Or never let them go. There is no in-between. The crossroads have arrived. No turning back or calling “do-overs.” No escape from the inevitable. So now you have to ask yourself. Yeah.. YOU! You know who you are. I’m talking to you. What are you going to do about the one?
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
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