I looked out the window of the plane and was taken aback by the breathtaking sight. He and I often talked about the moon; if he could see it, and I could see it, then we were never too far apart. I had never seen the moon like this before.
It seemed to be looking straight at me, right there in front of me. It was huge, and shone with a soft pale light, as bright as the sun. It was my sun, right then, and it held for me the beauty of a promise. The stars twinkled around it and I could feel a desire tug at my heart. I wanted to reach out and touch it, to hold it in my hands. I wanted to give it to him. For a moment, I forgot I was on the plane, and I imagined I was floating on a cloud in the sky, with the moon right next to me. It was so brilliant and beautiful. I will never forget that sight, and what it meant to me.
My eighteenth birthday was two days ago, and I was on a plane to see my baby. He and I had met on the internet about 8 months ago, and we were desperately, painfully, in love.
Looking back, I think I had a mental breakdown. I had quit my job that month, and on the same day, my great-aunt died. I had just spent the last few weeks with my now suicidal grandmother, who had just lost her only baby sister. There were instances I had to literally wrestle the knife from her hand to keep her from hurting herself. I felt that I deserved a vacation, and more than anything, I wanted to see him. So I bought the plane ticket. My parents wanted to either kill me or have me locked up, but in the end, they gave in and let me go. My mother even drove me to the airport at four 'o clock in the fucking morning. I had been too excited to sleep.
He and I had fallen in love almost from the day we first met online. We spent eight hours on the phone, talking. Somehow, I felt like I trusted him. I had a wall up around me and he tore it down immediately. Everything I had ever known, or felt, came rushing out and he listened to it all. He was enthralled by me, and I by him. We shared our innermost secrets.
The sexual chemistry between us was off the hook. Almost every night, I would call him and we would get off together, moaning and whispering to each other. His voice in my ear made me dizzy with passion and longing. His sexy moans and whimpers in my ear made me weak at the knees and awakened a sexuality in me that I had never known was there.
He had an innocence about him that I didn't have. At eighteen, I was as jaded as most adults. He was a few months older than me, but he was like a child, constantly exploring new things and learning. He was constantly discovering me, breaking down my barriers. It was frightening, and I wanted to push him away. He tore down my walls again and again, and he loved me with an intensity that I never knew existed. This may sound unrealistic for a long distance relationship, but it was real. We had our own little world, just the two of us. In our world, it was okay to write sappy poetry and read it aloud, or sing songs for each other, or just giggle about nonsense. He made me feel okay to be me.
I knew I had to meet him. So here I am, miles in the air, on my way to see him. My stomach was twisted in knots and I was so excited and scared all at the same time. My joy was like a miracle. I felt happy in a way I never had before.
His mother picked me up at the airport at about ten that morning when I arrived. I had spoken to her on the phone on many occasions, and she had taken the time to get to know me and take an interest in my life. She must have been crazy to agree to let me stay with them, knowing I was his girlfriend from a thousand miles away. I was nothing but thankful, and she made me feel like part of the family.
Due to my birthday's late placement in the year, I had graduated high school at the age of 17, but he was still a senior in school, at least, that day. He'd have the rest of the week off to spend with me. I'd be there for a whole week, from October 28th through November 5th. I remember that because there was a presidential election that year.
So we got to their house and his mother showed me to the guest room where I'd be staying. That was also the room with the computer that he and I had met on. I found that concept fascinating.
I looked like hell from my long flight; I had purposefully worn no makeup so that I could sleep comfortably, but that hadn't happened. I quickly went about fixing my hair, putting on makeup and finding an outfit to put on. I wanted him to see me looking my best. I was so nervous my hands were shaking.
His little brother, had rode the bus home and he practically ran into the guest room and tackled me with a big hug. I was amazed by the warmth and friendliness from this family I'd never met before. Of course, I knew his brother as well; he often stole the phone from him to talk to me about silly adolescent stuff. He was too sweet and funny; I loved him to death.
He spent the next half hour teasing me about meeting him, which did nothing to help my nerves. I was also nervous about meeting Paul's father later that night; he would never talk to me on the phone and he was apparently a tough old bird.
So finally, it was time to load up in the van and get him from school. His mother was the quintessential soccer mom, apparently. I sat in the front with his mom and his brother sat in the back. I did it that way so that I wouldn't have to sit next to him just yet. I was so nervous I could hardly breathe.
We finally pulled up to the curb and I recognized him immediately. My boy; he stood out from the crowd in his black, punk type clothing. He looked at me through the window and smiled. I tried to smile back, but I couldn't.
He looked a little different from his pictures; the red hair was a little longer, he was a little slimmer in person and like me, he had the pale coloring and freckles dotting his cheeks. When we had first exchanged pictures, we had marveled in the fact that he and I could almost have passed for brother and sister; we both had the same red-headed features. I had changed a little since my last picture, too; my hair was longer and I had streaked it with dark red highlights, and hopefully, I was a little slimmer too.
Paul climbed into the back of the van and I could feel his presence behind me.
"Hey," was all he said.
"Hey," I said back.
Ah, what a grand display of affection. I couldn't help it; I felt like a nervous little kid. So I just held it back.
