As she drove, Dimity let her mind wander to the start of her relationship with Brandon. It was innocent enough at the beginning. She was online, writing a short story and suddenly her IM box appeared. "Hello," said someone named Tantalize. She quickly clicked on the info button and the profile that came up intrigued her. His name was Brandon and he lived in a city about two hundred miles away. He was unmarried, like her, and worked with the homeless at a city agency. She liked that. She worked in a woman's shelter, helping those women who finally made the decision to leave their abusive husbands and start over. Much of her job was helping these women build self-esteem and go out into the world, feeling confident and secure. His profile also said that he liked reading, writing and theater, things she held dear. The one thing that convinced her to answer was his personal quote, "When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." She loved that. She typed in "Hi, Brandon, nice to meet you." Suddenly the screen came alive and it was hours later when Dimity realized how long they had been chatting. He was a comfortable fit for her. They had much in common, including their midwestern upbringing and beliefs. He was a few years older, but she liked that, it made her feel safe and protected. Realizing how late it was, she told Brandon that she had to sign off, but hated to do so. They agreed to meet again the next night and continue their conversation. She typed him a friendly goodbye, and headed to bed, already anticipating tomorrow night.
It seemed they had known each other forever. They met nightly and chatted for hours, sharing tales of childhoods spent learning and loving, teen years full of angst and broken hearts, attaining adulthood and the difficulties involved. The words tumbled out at an amazing rate, as Dimity and Brandon opened their hearts to each other.
In the nights that passed, the discussions moved beyond the superficial to deeply held beliefs and values. Both had come from large families and they had spirited discussions about kids and how they should be raised. They shared many of the same theories on love, marriage and children. They discussed their careers and what they loved about them. They expounded on what was wrong with the government and what should be done to improve the lives of their clients. Slowly, the chats moved into the realm of feelings and dreams and hopes and wishes.
It was amazing how much these evenings meant to Dimity. She looked forward to them almost from the moment they said goodnight. It could make a bad day better, knowing she would be able to tell Brandon all frustrations of her work. It made a good day absolutely fabulous, because, no matter how good a day was, she still had Brandon to look forward to.
One night, Brandon mentioned that it was their one month anniversary, that they had met and become friends exactly one month ago. It touched her deeply that he remembered that fact. As they typed, Brandon said perhaps the time had come to actually talk, if that was all right with her. Dimity paused in her typing, looking at the screen, feeling so many emotions at once. She knew this man, she knew he was good and kind and gentle, and she knew she had nothing to fear from him. She typed her phone number, checking it twice to make sure it was correct. Then with a trembling finger, she pushed enter.
There, on the screen, her phone number appeared. She had never done this before. Occasionally, she would meet someone online who wanted to call, but she always avoided moving to that level. Now it was out there, onscreen, in nearly glowing numbers, inviting Brandon to move with her to that step. "Soon, Dimity," he typed, then he signed off the computer. She sat there, staring at his words, wondering if she had made a mistake, if this would ruin the friendship she had come to cherish. Then the phone rang.
She slowly answered it, and heard her friend's voice for the first time. It was deep and even, no particular accent, but very crisp and warm. She immediately relaxed. His voice was just what she had hoped for, even his laugh was one she had heard in her dreams. The conversation took off where the typing had stopped, and they talked late into the night. Now, saying goodnight took on a whole new meaning.
