MarkBBlu's blog: "Stories and fiction"

Time surely does fly. I've been chatting online since 1993. That's longer than some of the kids online here have been breathing. At that time we used to use dial-up modems to connect to centralized BBS's (bulletin board systems). Over the years online speeds have increased remarkably. The software is far more sophisticated than it was back then. Some things haven't changed, though. Online romance happened then and it lives on today.

I've always thought it was completely illogical and almost laughable. I mean, seriously, how are you supposed to have any kinds of feelings for someone you haven't met? What's the attraction of words on the screen accompanied by what may or may not be an image of the person with whom you are conversing? Who are these idiots, anyway? Well, whoever they are I have to count myself among their idiotic ranks.

Yes, I have experienced online infatuation(at least) more than once in the seventeen some-odd years I've been chatting. I consider myself to be otherwise rational and at least reasonably intelligent. So what gives? I suppose if one were to describe the stereotypical victim of cyber-love I would say they were lonely, anti-social and cut off from the "real" world. Maybe they are dorky, clumsy, awkward societal misfits. Computer dweebs one and all! Or maybe none of the above.

What I've seen, not only from my own experience but from watching others, is that some remarkably (or maybe I should say unremarkably) normal people find each other in this netherworld of flying electrons and ones and zeros. Some take their newly-formed bonds into the physical realm. Others maintain their relationships in text (or voice) only. But what about these so-called online feelings that develop?

I say so-called feelings because it's hard to imagine anything real can exist between veritable strangers. And yet they definitely do exist. One could say they are figments of the imagination. But couldn't one say that about feelings and emotions in any environment? The thing is, I see, and have felt, a whole range of emotions online. I have felt anger, compassion, jealousy, loneliness, happiness, mistrust and maybe even, dare I say it, love.

I've decided that even in this contrived, non-tactile pseudo-world romance can, and does, exist. It's more than an analog of real life - it's an extension of real life. We have all arrived here for under various circumstances and with different intent. Isn't that the same as a gathering of people anywhere? True, some may feel uncomfortable in a bar or other social venue. Some may have children, jobs or other obligations that keep them off the streets. Does it really make a difference? They meet here, they communicate and they attract. Random encounters lead to long-term relationships all over the world every day. Does the venue really matter so much?

I have noticed some things seem different in the cyber-world, though. People sometimes share things they may not feel free to share face-to-face so early on. Of course, sometimes people are online living a completely separate life - not sharing anything real. That's a different topic. For the ones who do share their actual inner selves, cyber love may seem to move faster than it might otherwise. Or maybe that's just my own perspective. But I digress.

I could ramble on and on but the point's been adequately made. I say cyber feelings are still feelings. Chat love is still love. I would probably prefer not to be consumed by such a relationship (as if one could actually choose when and when not to feel for another) but I will definitely respect the relationships of others. I am convinced they feel for each other and that for them it is a real as real needs to be.

As much fun as it would be to poke fun and make jokes based on the stereotypes I need to remind myself that people in glass houses should not throw stones. Regarding fu-marriage, however, I reserve the right to laugh my effin' ass off!  (I'll probably regret that statement later)

(C) 2010 - Mark B Blu

Hundreds of miles away. For all this time it may have well been a million miles. For all this time it may as well have been only a few feet. Too far to touch and at the same time close enough to feel. The waiting. The indecision. The doubt. And finally, the flight.

I barely noticed the crowds of impatient travelers waiting in winding lines to have their belongings searched for explosives. I didn't care much about the uncomfortable seating at the airport. The crowded flight didn't bother me as it normally would. My mind was occupied - wondering if there was anything real waiting at my destination.

I drive in the rented car. I follow the robotic female voice of the GPS. I sit through evening rush hour in an unfamiliar city. At least it isn't like Los Angeles rush hour. I find the hotel and check into my room. I shower. I shave. I iron. I pace. I try to decide the best time to leave in order to be on time for my 9 o'clock dinner date with a woman I've not met. I wait. I pace some more. I leave my belongings behind in the hotel room. I wish I could leave my nervousness behind as well. I drive.

Finally, I arrive and take the ticket from the valet who whisks away the disappointing rental. Good riddance. I make my way through the doors into restaurant bar and I look for you. In the low light I see a room full of unfamiliar faces as I glance around. I don't see you and I worry that I came to the wrong place. I worry that you've changed your mind. Then I worry that you'll wish you had. Damned nerves. Having talked myself into feeling somewhat dejected I turn to head back outside to wait and then there you are. I see you smiling and my heart goes from racing to a dead stop for a moment.

Pictures. I have looked at your pictures and been moved. I don't think you know how beautiful you really are, despite being told time and time again. Or perhaps you do. I've looked at those eyes and imagined what might be behind them. And those lips - own me. Each new picture brings new thoughts and fantasies. But seeing you makes it all pale. I'm speechless yet I know I need to find words, and soon. Was this really such a good idea? Thankfully we are both able to get past our initial nervousness and conversation begins to flow.

Dinner finds us finally able to relax. I can share and laugh about my earlier nervousness. I'm relieved to know it wasn't just me. I assumed it but it helps to hear it from you. Still, it is sometimes easier to talk from behind a screen. No need to worry about lettuce in the teeth or hair out of place. Too late to worry.

Piano music wafts in from the bar area. It seems such a waste to have come this distance only to waste it. I stand and extend my hand, hoping you'll take it and join me for a dance in the next room. You give a shy polite smile and thankfully, I find your hand in mine. I place your hand in the bend of my left arm as we walk to the small unlit dance floor.

We arrive and stand in the center of the wood floor that's surrounded by dark carpeting. You turn to face me and my right hand touches your waist to coax you closer. As you come toward me I reach to the small of your back and we begin to sway. Your right hand releases my left and your hands find the back of my neck. I look fully into your eyes for what feels like the first time. I hold you as you rest your head on my left shoulder. We are the only ones on the dance floor. At first I feel self-conscious but it doesn't take long before no one else matters.

As I hold you I take in the scent of your hair and discover the subtle scent of your perfume. You feel so right in my arms that I already find myself wishing it was more than a dance. My head moves back and I look in your eyes for a moment before resting my forehead against yours, our noses touching. I try to imagine you hearing my thoughts and at the same time I'm a little relieved that you can't.

I've lost track of how many tunes have gone by. I suppose it's time to head back to the table. We start to walk but after a few steps away from the bar area I stop you. I take your right hand in my left and gently hint for you to face me. My right hand reaches to cup your chin and tilt your head slightly upward. My heart pounds and my palms and face feel warm as I move in to touch your lips with mine. It's just a brief kiss and I only linger briefly. I stop and look into your eyes, halfway expecting to see some slight protest but when I see none I kiss you again. This is the kiss I've thought so often about. The kind of kiss that leaves you with little doubt about my feelings and desire for you. You move even closer as our lips part and we…

And then the ring of the alarm clock. A rude intrusion into what was to be something amazing. My eyes are pried open by the morning light and already the images that a moment ago completely gripped me begin to fade. I refuse to let this fade into yet another forgotten dream. Reality barges in. Damned alarm clock!

(C) 2010 -  Mark B Blu

While logic sleeps I reach out with my heart's hand to feel her mind as we share some of the same dreams. While logic sleeps her mind's eye sees me reaching out to her and sees my heart beating faster. While logic sleeps she allows us to be, to share, to love and to laugh, all in beautiful living color. She lets me hold her, protect her from the cold and to dance with her as one. While logic sleeps I know peace.

But when logic awakes I feel the rush of embarrassment and foolishness and inner turmoil for ever having thought I could have such a beautiful soul in my overly-complicated life. When logic wakes she remembers why she withdraws and mistrusts and she focuses on the real people and the real circumstances in her well-established life. Unfortunately, logic always awakens.

For me, when logic sleeps an unlikely, unreasonable and impossible love awakens and lives. It becomes real enough to taste. It is powerful and palpable. But when logic awakes it remembers. It remembers the love that was felt so strongly only moments before was just an illusion. Wishful thinking. A flight of fancy and imagination. It simply never happened. While logic is awake I know sadness.

However, while logic is awake it also remembers that you can take a grain of salt and pulverize it ever smaller. It knows you can take the smallest visible piece you can create and as soon as you drop it onto your tongue you still instantly recognize - without a doubt - that it's salt. Salt is definitely real and can be positively identified in almost any quantity.

I have tried to listen to my logic. I have struggled to think instead of feel. I've honestly tried to sort reality from fantasy and I really do know the difference. Sometimes it is maddening. But in the end I know I've lost the recurring inner battle and reality ultimately yields each and every time. My logic can be asleep or awake and I am still intractably stuck.

I have come to believe that just as with salt, even the smallest perceptible piece of love is still love. So, awake or asleep - even if it's ever so slightly, despite my logic and experience and in spite of it being improbable, impossible, unreasonable or just plain foolish, I know that I do love her. Despite my very best efforts to cleanse my emotional pallet I still taste her.

While logic slept she seasoned my soul.

(C) 2010 - Mark B Blu