E-love

My relationship with my computer has always been strange. But not as strange as the relationships I made through it. I guess this is me trying to explain myself. If only to myself.

I was never a very confident person, so when I realised that I could make friends through the internet I was overjoyed. Behind a computer screen you can be anyone you want. You can make up a whole new personality for yourself. And I did. I know now that others did too, but it doesn’t matter.

With time, some of my friendships became something else. I’d never met these people, but I felt something special, a feeling I’d never felt before. I was in love.

His name was Mark. He didn’t live very far away from me, but we’d never met. For one reason or another. Anyway, we got on great. And one day we decided to take things further. We decided to meet.

Arranging the meeting was nerve wracking. What if he wasn’t the person he’d said he was? You hear the stories every day; girl meets boy online and he turns out to be some 40 year old psycho. But everything was fine. Nothing much happened, just met up for coffee. I didn’t like it though. Like I said, things are easier behind a computer screen.

Some would say it’s my parents’ fault. They never gave me the love I needed. I never had many friends as a child, and so I craved those feelings. Friendship. Affection. Love. It’s not such a bad way to be I guess. It’s not like I’m a bad person because of it.

I met up with Mark a few times. I liked him, and things got easier with time. And after a time I felt feelings that had previously been alien to me. My entire world changed, this wasn’t something I could cope with.

You know what happens when you suddenly find yourself in love. Especially for someone in my position, never had anyone to love before. And he was such a sweetie. All the practise he’d had on those chat rooms I guess. He had a way with words, a way to make me feel a million dollars. A way to make me trust him.

Of course I trusted him. You always do, until someone shatters that trust. But I had no reason to think that he would do that. And so after while, he convinced me to sleep with him.
The sex was dull. I didn’t enjoy it. But he seemed so caring, I couldn’t disappoint him. I told him it was great. I’ve always been told it brings people together, but I think it was that night that pushed us further apart.

I stayed with him. I felt trapped. How could I tell him that it was a lie? Every time we met up we ended up having sex. He loved it, you could tell, he put so much effort into it. I found myself just lying back, wishing that it would be over soon. I did feel guilty, but this was the first guy to be interested in me. Even though the me he thought he knew was a lie. It didn’t matter. I’d put up with worse.

He started getting serious. It scared me. I wasn’t used to it. Hints of moving in with him. Then he told me he loved me. I couldn’t cope. I told him to leave.

Sitting in my room I felt empty. But I knew I’d done the right thing. It still confused me. Having nothing felt wrong, but I couldn’t cope with it when I had it. I longed for what others had. I longed to be able to be me.

Of course he followed me around. Rang up my house. Sent flowers, letters. I ignored them all. I did feel a twinge of guilt, and I guess it was my sympathetic nature that got me into trouble. We got back together.

I think he’d realised that he was being to heavy. For the first week he backed off a little. I felt more at ease. Even though it had been the reason for the original break-up, I started to long for the feel of his skin next to mine. Every inch of me was screaming for it.

It wasn’t long before we had sex again. But still, even after our break, it disappointed me. The sweet nature I’d seen in Mark during our separation had gone. The more convinced I was that he was more interested in the sex. He had to go.

He was one of those people though that you can’t get rid of. I lost count of the times we broke up. Every time it would be my own pathetic need for love that meant we got back together. I needed to get out of the cycle. I needed to move on. I needed to get rid of him.

Most people would have thought of a better way. But I didn’t know any, and as I watched his body float down the river on the other end of town, I thought I’d got it right. It’s not like I killed him. He drowned. It was an accident. I’m upset, of course I am, but more relieved. I’m free again.

I still love my computer. I still use it to talk to people. I haven’t had a boyfriend since Mark, just casual flings, and I like it that way. I’m far too young for anything serious anyway. It’ll be a long time before I do that again. And I’ll be careful to keep my online relationships online in future.