I could hear him again soon. If I wanted to. Just turn that dial, and there he is. I just hope I won’t. Not even by accident. I’m not ready. I thought I was. I thought…
Here is one of my first posts, that is still on blogspot. One of many I will import back here soon. Originally, I wrote this as an introduction for a short story I never finished. And I opened my blog and I dug it out and adjusted it but not much. It was written three years before everything happened. It’s like I had a premonition. Like I knew. But it was never calculated.
Reading it today, it bothers me, I see holes and weaknesses all over it. But it’s heartfelt, and I’m posting it here without any changes:
It was, of course, the voice that made her swoon. The face she had known for a while. But once she heard him on the radio, the face somehow took the backseat and became a blur in her mind. The intelligence, the sexiness… Oh, how he turned her on.
And so she wrote him an email claiming her love, jokingly, in a way that she thought showed some wit. To said email he replied very briefly, even reluctantly, but she pushed on. And soon they were having conversations about their lives, turn-ons. Everything was moving so fast, she was caught in a whirlwind of being anxious about the next email, feeling elated after reading it and getting all hot and heavy replying.
And then he wanted to meet. And then she said no, and then she said yes. And then they had unbelievable sex. And then he said it was too much to bear. And then he disappeared. Blocked her email, said fuck you and went on his way. Well fuck you too buddy she thought, not really meaning it.
Ok, it was a stupid idea to start with anyways. You had it coming. He didn’t have to be an asshole about it though.
So on that very sad night she lit up the thousandth cigarette of the evening and contemplated the possibility of becoming a psychotic stalker.
But then, she realized, she was just too fucking lazy.
