A secret admirer I can’t see. I got to know of him through my friend who told him about me. She met him recently where she travelled to. She had gone to help me get this rare item from a store; and along came a man who was interested in the same thing. Somehow, at lunch, they ended up talking about me. (I hope she bears no grudge.)
He would write and say all these wonderful things to me. Well! Things that could pass off as initial wooing. He was very smart; it was like he understood a lot about women. Maybe he has had quite a trailer-load of personal experiences!
“Stop thinking like that, girl. He is not a left-over from the love’s garbage trailer.”
My friend said all these sweet things about him. She also said some not-too-magical things. (I hope it was not to keep me from getting too involved with him.) That way I was happy he was for real. There was a little dose of reality to him.
I got convinced to give it a try. I sent my phone number to him. He called almost immediately. Our first conversation was wonderful.
Over the course of a short time, we grew very close. He would send bits of his person to me. I don’t mean his flesh! He could send a picture of something he drew today; a photograph of his home growing up. It seemed very real to say I was falling for him. It was very fun.
I know it’s probably cliche to say a man should be interested in a lady; but, if you experienced what I felt, you would love it.
Before long, I was telling him what I was eating for dinner, I just got out of shower, and sending the pictures of my new hairstyles and dresses to him. I DID long for his approval. And when he gave it, my night was warm with the sun. I bought his favourite perfume so I could have his fragrance all over me when I slept.
He genuinely appreciated me. He wasn’t rich, but he always managed to pull off some surprise gifts via delivery services at times.
I know that it pays to be safe. But it also pays to live life out and true.
It has been three months today, and I am yet to see him.
I have heard of tales of internet sex predators before and I know a lot of harm results from virtual romance. I have been asking to see him, but he stays quite far away. And for some reason, he always couldn’t make it to come see me. Amidst all he told me about himself, he didn’t tell me the exact house address. Work always kept me tied, so I couldn’t go see him. At a time, I thought I would bail. But when I considered all he was and did, it felt so much. He was giving me so much I couldn’t imagine running at a loss. I also couldn’t imagine anything worth holding back from him. Oh! So he would swoop down on me one night and ask for sex, and I’d refuse?! (I silently pray he is a gentleman, though; I hope I don’t have to wiilingly give away my body before marriage.)
It has been three months now
And I am becoming worried.
Initial disappointments at his inability to show up…
Then little wonderings and worryings…
To little doubts and fears…
Some skepticism and suspicions…
Mixed with deeper longing and patient passion.
Moments I sit and think…
Moments I worry and fret but couldn’t make sense of all the questions that kept me awake…
Moments I analyse and look to reason…
Moments I just go over the messages and recorded phone calls to re-live the reality of it all…
Moments of desire alone on a cold bed, drunk in your fragrance.
I reach out but I can’t touch you…
I cry but I can’t feel your eyes…
You seem close in my heart, but an abyss away…
You are real, but you are also unreal.
I’ll go anywhere to see you in full form…
I’ll do anything to scale the wall separating our worlds…
I’ll give anything just to HAVE the whole of you. And soon, please…
And I’ll be running with loving-meek fury to tear the thin veil between this reality and your reality.
I hope you see this wherever you are.
You are the shadow that colours my light; the dream that makes my reality blind.
You are welcome only if you have a shadow.
Writing is being.
Being mad is serious business.
Being deep is mad business.
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