Some people don't believe in love at first sight. And if we come to think of it, it really seems strange: falling in love with someone you've seen only once? But even more incredible is to fall for someone you have never seen at all...
I lived with my parents all my life, until I decided I wanted to go far away and try a bit of isolation just for the sake of independence. I had just finished high school and decided to apply to the farthest college I could find. Yeah, it was a bit expensive, but my parents had been saving all this time anticipating that someday I'd want to fly away and make something on my own (even if that was only fixing my own breakfast in the morning) and they wanted to make sure I'd have the chance... Lucky me...
I wasn't terribly sorry to go -even after all those years of living in the same place it still didn't feel like home. There was little to leave behind: I never did fit in. My best friend lived in Florida and we talked only by e-mail so it wouldn't make too much a difference where I lived. As for my family, well, we never did get along. I must admit part of this resolution was actually a great urge of getting away -far away- from all of them. It was hard at first though. Living alone, far away from everything and everyone I'd known so far, friendless and trying to adapt to my new environment. I missed my former life and especially my computer -I was a mayor Internet fan. So I was truly relieved when I found the college had a computer lab where I could access my mail and communicate with everybody at home.
It became my escape gate: every time I was too bored I ran to the computer to take my mind away from my now-suddenly-too-slow life. There were 21 computers in the club; mine was always the #19. It was in a corner of the room, near the administrator's desk, right under the main lamps so every time I went there at nights I had to get fried with the lightbulb glowing right above my head. A dear old thing it was to me my #19! Soon it became my best friend -the only thing that saved me from my growing loneliness.
Months went by and I found it hard to adapt. In half a year I'd made only one friend in my class and still didn't quite fit in. I was really glad to know I'd be going back home for the summer -I was feeling extremely lonely those last weeks and this vacation seemed to me like a glass of ice water after walking through the desert.
June arrived and found me with a deep emptiness inside of me... I was eager to go back home for the same reason I had been eager to get away -because I couldn't stand to live there anymore; pretty much the same situation one experiences when holding something that is too hot and you must pass it from hand to hand because it is too painful to hold it for long.
We started exam session and I counted the days in my calendar anxious to get it over with and run back home. My daily routine: go to class, go to the cafeteria for lunch, pass by my comp and check my mail, go to my room in the dorm, again to the cafeteria for dinner and pass by the club again to write home before I went back to my room, was already becoming heavy. I was just thinking I had become somewhat a robot with this new life. There was something lacking in it; maybe a little company that could lighten up my days and make me smile once in a while -something that my very boring classmates never did for me. I had got to the point where I needed to kick myself out of bed every morning and counted the hours until the day was over. I could not stand my own company or nobody's and I buried more and more in my cyber-world trying to fill my time, trying to cheer me up -but very unsuccessfully...
Also I must remark I was tired of feeling empty. I hadn't been in love with anybody for too long and I had started to wonder if I didn't have an ice cube for a heart. Talking with my friend was quite depressing for all I heard from her were stories about her gorgeous boyfriend. I remembered my last love as a big heartache but still I missed the feeling. I thought, if I was doomed to stay melancholic at least I preferred to be melancholic over someone; have someone to think about... It felt like I was missing out on something.
I longed to wake my heart from that new trance I was experiencing and as I passed by a well one day a childish impulse made me look inside and make a wish... meet the one that would bring me out of that endless lack of feeling. I was sure this wish was far too silly to be granted but only five days afterwards I was proved wrong.
As I walked back to my room after lunch that morning I passed by the book store on my way back and went in to get a new notebook. As I was heading for the dorm I stopped by the computer club to check my mail and, distracted as I was, thinking about my upcoming trip home, I didn't notice I had left the notebook on the desk. I didn't notice all day until I wanted to write something and realized I didn't have it.
I went to get it back and saw it was almost dinner time. There was nothing to do the next 30 minutes until dinner and there was no point in going back to my room since my favorite TV program had been cancelled that day for a sport match. I decided to sit at the keyboard and check my mail and browse around the net to kill the time. I fell in a chat site by mistake.
Didn't seem to be my lucky day -I tried about 6 rooms without finding anyone to talk to. I was just about to go away when I decided to make one last try. I found a message in that room that made me really mad: a guy had just logged out... and I had missed him for two minutes! But he said he would be back in a few minutes so I decided to wait a little and try to talk to him -I really really wanted to talk to somebody that day! And I had nothing to do at the moment so what did I have to lose? (I had no way of knowing then.)
I had never chatted before and hardly knew how the program worked. It was a bit exciting to talk to someone from the other end of the world and he turned out to be quite friendly. We talked for about two hours and I realized I was in danger of losing my dinner if I didn't make the cafeteria on time, but I was enjoying our chat so much I didn't want to end it.
We both had to go eventually and agreed to meet an hour latter and keep talking. I did nothing but check my watch the whole time, eager to meet him again. Those days I was really tense with my exams and my trip home and talking to him really soothed me. Besides for such a lack of social life as mine any company was welcome.
This was Day One.
Many more followed. We agreed to meet every day in the same room at the same hour. And before long, these little conferences had become the highlight of my day. It cheered me up so much to talk with him I actually counted the hours to meet him and soon I found myself thinking about this all the time. Now I was at the club more often, checking my mail all day in hopes of finding a message from him and writing to him often.
I soon realized I liked him better than any of the people I knew and this feeling seemed to grow with every meeting. The pressing question all this time was: WHY? How could I like him that much? I never met the guy, I hardly even knew anything about him and yet he drew me like a powerful magnet with the most genuine chemistry I ever had with anyone: almost right away I got so fond of him like we'd been friends forever! I was always so excited about seeing him again; my heart actually jumped when his name appeared on the screen... but why?... To this day I still fail to answer that question. It didn't make any sense and still doesn't... I was aware it was weird, especially because I never make friends that easy -it takes me a while to get to like someone, so he was a rare exception.
The most amazing part is that our conversations weren't even brilliant; we just talked about simple things -what we liked, what we did; we joked a lot and had quite a bit in common. But it was clear to see that we understood each other and could talk about anything -no matter what he said he never bored me... I never knew how he managed but he had the power to make me smile no matter how upset I was that day. Plus it was clear that he liked me and that made me feel special: he didn't even know me but we were friends? That was probably the best compliment I could ever get. Ironically he, the one faceless voiceless character, became the most real presence in my life; the one I most cared about.
I was so happy since I'd met him even my classmates started to remark I looked more cheerful. It was the happiest month of that year. I cherished every word he wrote; sometimes I would even go back to our room after the chats to read again our last lines, if I missed him too much to wait until the next night. Every time I thought about him I couldn't help but smile... If we didn't meet for more than one day I missed him so badly I even spent the time scribbling his name all over my notebooks like a silly teenager while I waited impatiently to meet with him again. I kept repeating myself I was insane, but I couldn't help it. I ended up admiting I had a real crush...
Every night as I went back to the dorm after our chat, walking slowly, smiling at myself recalling all we had been saying, sometimes I would look up at my favorite star, whisper his name and make a wish: that he could get to feel the same for me someday... I knew he didn't love me half as much as I loved him, even if he said he liked me so much, but I could hope he'd grow feelings for me by and by as he got to know me better.
I didn't care if we never got to meet. I didn't care if we had to stay forever talking over a computer; I could settle. Just a few minutes of his company was enough to make my day.
Sometimes he couldn't make it for our chat and I got so sad I would go to some other room and talk to someone else to take my mind away from him. Sometimes I would just browse around the chat site to see the other people talking and realized I wasn't the only one around that had this kind of cyber-friendship since I often saw two people chatting in the next room and they seemed to meet everyday too.
I was beaming with happiness as I went home that summer, not only because I'd get away from that slow boring routine, but also because now I felt closer to him, even if he lived in the States and we were still to far from each other to meet in person.
We still kept our daily chat and I still treasured it like gold. He still got late often but I never yelled at him: I was so happy when he came I didn't mind the waiting anymore. Still I had to browse around the room and get consoled by some stranger if he didn't show up one day and that led me to the most amazing coincidence!
As I was there one night talking to some girl another one got on the line. It was the same girl I had seen often in the next room as I went to meet my friend so I started to talk to her and tell her about my on-line pal. After I had told a bit about him, as she kept questioning me I could realize that she knew him... And just then she logged out!
The next day I had to meet with him again and I was really nervous. Who was that girl? Could that be him the one I always saw talking with her? Maybe she had told him that she met me... but what had she told him? I had told her everything: that I was crazy about the man... I thought it had been stupid to give away my feelings, but it's too easy to chat away too much when you speak to strangers since they're not involved at all -or so I thought... And how icredible! The first time I ever made the mistake to talk about him and it had to be someone who knew him! How would he take it?
A little evil voice inside me tried to whisper in my ear that it might even be good if she had told him all... What if he was in love with me too and now that he knew how I felt he'd finally tell me...? But I told that voice to shut up: it was plain absurd that he should love me. Then again it was just as absurd that I loved him, but I did...
Almost right away he said he had something to tell me and I started to bite my nails. Somehow I could guess what was to follow -something warned me to brace myself... It seemed like hours until his next line was posted on the screen. I thought I'd faint.
He was in love... but not with me.
Apparently the other girl was more to him than I expected... I could almost hear my heart breaking. A voiceless "no" went past my lips in a low and despaired gasp that was all the emotion I could express at the moment since my mother was only a two feet from me reading a book, completely heedless of my story. At that moment I was glad we only spoke through the computer so he couldn't see the expression of my eyes... I was completely numb, my hands frozen resting on the keyboard; just concentrating my energy in keeping the tears from falling praying that my mother wouldn't address to me just then for I knew I would not dominate my voice.
As my silence persisted he worried I might be gone so I hurried to post an empty answer that was all my trembling fingers could do at that moment. I used to pout when our chat ended but that day the goodbye was a deep relief for me. As soon as I got free I ran to my room and locked up all day with my CDs, playing That love thing nonstop till midnight trying to convince myself that I didn't care; that I didn't need him... But I did care! I cared so very much!
My wish hadn't been granted!
What upset me the most is that she was an on-line acquaintance too, they didn't even meet in person! We both met him the same way, almost at the same time: we were equal -but she won... I thought my pride would never recover from that shock; I fell into the obsessive old complaint "what has she got that I haven't?" In fact, what really upset me most is that she was so nice I couldn't even hate her, or even be mad about what had happened. I still can't believe the resignation with which I took the whole situation, like it almost seemed logic to me that it should be that way.
The days that followed seemed like a slow nightmare... I just spent them in my room, locked up, incapable to sleep or eat at all, buried in such an empty depression I couldn't even cry and release my anguish; except at nights when I glanced endlessly at the stars drowned in painful sighs until the tears blurred my sight and the world seemed to dissapear around me... Mom started to get worried and urged me to go out: "Enjoy the sun! You're on vacation!" But I had no mood at all. I changed the tune to Baby love but that didn't soothe me either... nothing could. I kicked myself, called me a baby, chided myself endlessly for suffering over such a stupid thing, but couldn't help it. The time turned endless, the hours and minutes seemed like years; in this state I realized I could not resist much longer.
There was only one way to liberate this anguish: let it out. The secret haunted me; I just had to tell him the truth. I knew that wouldn't change anything but at least it would relieve me. And what did I have to lose? The worst thing that could happen had; I couldn't get hurt anymore from this point.
Was hard to make up my mind. I was afraid of his reaction. I knew he did care for me anyway and the news might make him sad; I didn't like to tell him that he hurt me... I hesitated; more than once I turned around: did I really have the right to spoil his happy time with such story -ease my heartache putting it in his concience?... The confession finally came out and I felt somewhat relieved. He took it like I thought he would: calmly and nicely; rather mellow -exactly what my heart needed at that moment when I was feeling so dispairately sad. By and by he soothed me, I felt calmer and we ended up as friends. Eventually I managed to accept the situation, even if I was still sorry this didn't have the happy ending I had pictured...
Yet even if it hurt I didn't regret at all that I had met him. I realized I still preferred to be in love and brokenhearted than empty like before. I admitted to myself if I had been warned from the beginning this would happen I would have gone through it anyway... But I was still sad and for a long time I couldn't shake the feeling off. It took me a long while to stop thinking about him, to resign that we were friends -very good friends, but only friends. For a long time this (stupid, childish, unjustified, but still painfully real) love would still haunt me...
And often the melancholy possessed me. Sometimes I would still look up at the stars and whisper his name at midnight when the anguish still unabled me to slumber and forced me to seek the comfort of the window and the lines of Villete's Polly were still spinning in my head:
"I cannot -cannot sleep; and in this way I cannot -cannot live!"
(This story was finished on July 1999)
