"Cancer."
The word hung in the air like a suffocating cloud. How could that be? He was only, what, 26? How is it possible that this vibrant, exciting, intelligent man had been betrayed by his own body?
"Oh," I typed, trying to think of what to say. Wanting so desperately to say the right words but in my mind all I could think was "why" over and over.
"I've been sick for a while." The words made me feel like I had been whisked into a tornado. A while? What was "a while?" I had known him for a year online...we had flirted and talked about this and that, sharing some laughs and a few difficult times, but nothing so important as this. I didn't even know his real name! And NOW he tells me...now that the flirting had gotten to be my biggest pleasure online. Now that I had started to think about him more and more often, relishing the emails sent, loving to hear about anything and everything important to him.
"What's the prognosis?" I typed it, wanting so much to hear that it was nothing. Wanting to hear that it was some 'little' kind of cancer. A little spot on his cheek from too much Georgia sun, perhaps?
"It's my lung." And again, the cloud fell over me. Lung cancer. Not exactly an easy cancer.
And so the conversation went. He was on his way to the Doctor the next day. The choice was to be made about a pretty serious surgery, removing the traitorous lung or not. I encouraged him as best I could and the words just sort of fell from my fingertips in an easier manner than I would have imagined. I didn't have to think with this man. I just typed as I would speak, trying my best to convey the faith I suddenly felt in my heart that he would be alright. I thought perhaps I had made my point and so we signed off for the night.
Once again, I dreamed about him. But it wasn't about the "C" word. It was about everything I had known before. His humor, the way he winked at me when he was being flirtatious or naughty, picturing his fingertips on the keyboard of his computer, caressing the keys. There was nothing sexual about my dream, really, but I awoke to find my heart racing and the thought of those fingertips on my mind.... My dream told me everything I needed to know, although it was pretty vague, like a series of snapshots. Nowhere in that mental picture album was his health problem. There was no thought of it when the thoughts were purely subconscious, so it didn't matter. And anyway, we were just friends. Friends that flirt.
I put the thought out of my head and went about my day, thinking of him in vague terms and turning off my thoughts when they turned more specific. I had made the decision to allow him into my world, and I would, as any friend should, support him with whatever decisions he made at the Doctor's office. I prayed, though, that God would guide him toward the right decision.
That night I played a game online, really hoping I might run into him, as I had been doing so much lately. It was getting late, though, and I knew he was tired most of the time. I was quite sure he was sleeping, his body trying to regain the strength that the big day had probably taken out of him. I sighed and told the other players I was tired and going to bed. Just before I logged off I was blindsided by his name in the gameroom.
My fingers flew like the lightning that had gone up my spine at the sight of his name. "NG NG NG!!!" and he typed several brackets with my screen name inside them, signifying a hug. All I wanted to do was feel it...
I stayed another hour that night, playing the game and flirting mercilously with him. His quips and comebacks were even faster than usual tonight, and the flirting between us raged back and forth in the room, amusing all of the other players to no end. After that hour I knew he was tired and suggested that he get to bed, and I did the same. The goodbye was long and drawn out, like two 13 year olds saying "No, YOU hang up!" I laughed to myself and he did as well when I mentioned that I was having a hard time turning off my computer while he was still available. He disappeared, like the gentlemen he was, shortly thereafter, ensuring me some rest.
I had laid in my bed for an hour, unable to stop thinking about him when I realized I had not even asked him about his Doctor's appointment. I sat bolt upright in bed, my heart pounding a million miles a minute. Would he think I had forgotten or I didn't care? I hadn't forgotten...I had just gotten so swept up with the flirting and the light that eminated from him that I had completely put the "C" word out of my head! I hopped out of bed and onto the computer, glad I hadn't closed it down for the night and hurriedly typed an email, sure it would sound trite. "I thought about you all day, but just didn't get a chance to ask you about the appointment. Tell me how it went." I signed off and went back to bed.
I had an answer the next day and hurriedly opened my email. He had decided that the surgery was the best option. I felt like he had made the right decision and my heart swelled with hope. I signed onto the game and hurriedly searched the room. There he was....
We spoke a lot that night. About his fears, about how nobody else online knew what was going on with his health. About his life and mine and the things that seemingly "clicked" between us. The flirting became pretty comfortable, not more than I would with anyone else online that I liked. I was very careful about that. I just didn't want to lose his friendship because I carried some kind of schoolgirl crush on him in my pocket like a lucky charm.
Suddenly, things changed. One flirty comment I made about kissing his neck elicited a more serious comment, and I held my breath waiting for his "lol" to come rolling off his fingertips. It didn't. Then suddenly my mind was racing, thinking about him more sexually than I ever had. I couldn't play the game. My points dropped. Players I knew were confused, asking if I was alive and still playing. I was so lost in the thought of the warm skin over his pulse that I almost signed out twice, blushing the entire time.
And then, there it was...a sentence I barely remembered typing. "I would kiss your neck for hours." Did I type that??? Oh Lord, what if he said "well, yeah, if I let you!" I held my breath and waited what seemed an eternity for the round to end and him to respond. My fingers hovered on my mouse, ready to click the black "X" at the top of the page as soon as I'd been put in my rightful place. What the hell was I doing??
"I'd let you."
That was all he said. That was it. I didn't know what to do or what to say at that point, so amazed that he had chosen those words. I wanted him to let me. I wanted him to want me to. I wanted...so many things that my mind just raced. And then suddenly things were back to normal. Light flirting. Laughing and being the entertainment in the game room. Others laughing at our antics. I had imagined the entire thing, apparently. Wishful thinking. And thinking I was! As much fun as I was having, I couldn't get the thought out of my head. Kissing his neck. Feeling his pulse beneath my warm tongue... and I admitted as much in a flash of bravery that shocked even me. When he admitted as much in return I was completely lost. The game went on, but I was completely lost in other thoughts, and I lost miserably. I noticed, though, that he was playing well.
"I should be getting to bed, Bunny" he said and I knew it was true. It was an hour later in Georgia than it was in Nebraska. He was tired and frankly, so was I. And then, due to lack of sleep or simply bravery, I did it.
"Do me a favor? Don't talk for a minute."
And with those words I had sealed it. I was going to take what I needed from him, albeit only online.
I typed that I put my hands on his face and lowered my lips to his, breathing in his breath and caressing his tongue with mine. In that moment, there was nothing in the outside world. Nothing except his mouth.
I apolgoized profusely and to my dismay he reacted positively to my words. "I have wanted that all night."
All night? What? He had? My mind was racing as I saw the letters pop up on the screen. I couldn't say anything for a moment...but I didn't have to. He touched my face and kissed me. He kissed me this time. Was I dreaming? Why? All I knew for sure is that my breath had caught in my throat and I was trembling. Trembling at words on a screen. I couldn't focus and I felt like I would never breathe again. I hurriedly whispered a quick goodbye and left the game room, desperately sorry I had as soon as my screen went blank. I had run. This was crazy. I wanted things I couldn't have.
And so it went. I ran into him again the next day and we talked. Neither mentioned the kisses, or their effect. We did, however discuss sex. We talked for hours about what we liked and didn't, our experiences and what we truly wanted. He had been ignored by the women he had been with. I had been hurt. And all the time I just wanted to touch him. With every quip about sex and every story about dissatisfaction, I wanted to fix it. How could those women be so blind? Although I'm sure being touched by his hands would be heaven, how could you not want to touch and give pleasure in return? In my mind I likened it to meeting an angel. They lay their hands on you and you feel blessed, but wouldn't you want to touch their wings?
And so that has led me here. Onto this plane bound for Georgia. On the pretense of a trade show, I arranged this trip through my work. My destination was about 100 miles from his home and I had offered to see him while I was "in the area." Could he see through the guise? Did he know the only reason I was heading for Georgia was to see him in person? Hoping desperately to see in his eyes the passion of those few shared kisses weeks before? Would he treat me like a sister? Like a friend? My mind raced through the entire flight and I felt half dead when my feet touched Georgia soil.
