But there was never any potential lover waiting for me on the other side of those flights.After landing, my carry-on suitcase seemed to find every crack in the sidewalk as I raced to find him. He was already waiting for me in Baggage Claim, a bouquet of purple flowers in his outstretched hands.He told me things, too: his insecurities, his anxieties, stories about his failed marriage and his ex-girlfriends and the friends he suspected didn’t really have his best interests at heart (he was right about them).
The two rooms and bathroom appeared to be much smaller than what I had seen through his laptop camera. My would-be lover appeared unexpectedly glum as he plopped down on the mattress next to me.
His bed was a mattress on the floor with a box spring underneath. “I really want to kiss you right now,” he mumbled, unable to look into my eyes.
yeah, that plan lasted all of five days before we met.
At first, I rationalized my guilt away: It’s only phone sex! But it was undeniably the most intimate contact I was allowing myself to share with another person during this self-induced bout of celibacy.
I couldn’t even think about saying “I love you” if I wasn’t right next to him.
We picked a week that I would fly out to visit him in his city, but I waited until the end of one month of talking to him so that I could be “sure” we weren’t sick of each other already.
I’ve heard sex does that to people when they’re in love.
We didn’t give our relationship – such that it was – any labels.
I tested the waters and called him my Online Boyfriend. “I like that.” Writing the words didn’t make him my boyfriend, but it did mean we were [maybe] onto Something Big.