Crushes

So, I have a fairly addictive personality. I don’t drink a lot, I don’t smoke any more and I certainly don’t do anything harder . . . instead, I get crushes. I fall ‘in love’ with someone intensely and undeniably, usually for a week or less though sometimes they last longer. Sometimes, they could in all likelihood be more than crushes, if they weren’t confined to the internet. I’m smart that way, I guess – there have been (and probably will be) crushes on real life people, but mostly I know better. They live in Australia or England or California or Mars (near enough, really, considering responsibilities that keep me from going anywhere, ever) or Timbuktu. Regardless of where the person lives, it’s a bright spot in an otherwise tedious day when said person comes online; I start grinning ridiculously and can’t wait for that person to message me, or to message that person.

Right now, he lives in England and he knows, though I doubt he took it seriously when I told him. I don’t really take it seriously, what with the married and the two kids and all – it’s a diversion, something more fun than changing diapers and cleaning up kid messes and making dinner. It’s adult companionship with both more and less intimacy than if Ruth or Erich or someone came over and sat in my living room drinking tea and talking about nothing for an equal amount of time. I don’t . . . connect with people who can see my face and read more into what I’m saying than I want them to see. Online, if people read something into what I’m saying, I can blame it on something else entirely – but in person, my face gives me away. My tone of voice, the look in my eyes . . . I’m a decent actress, but the people I’d hang out with know me well enough to tell when I’m lying (or just obscuring something) anyway. It’s far more rare, these days, that I can say ‘I’m fine’ and get left alone. Someone (usually Ruth or Erich) always pushes the issue – and I hate it, when there’s the risk of me crying in front of someone. Or getting pissed off. Or . . . well, or much of anything, really. It’s different to talk to the Ks, or other online people.

Anyway! Yes, England and fags and gin and cake. It’s fun to imagine, indeed, just the hanging out part. It hasn’t gotten any further than that, so maybe it’s not so much a crush as he’s becoming one of the few online people I call a Real Friend ™.