thelesbianlifestyle.com

A long time ago, back when I hadn’t yet come out to my parents I had two experiences with meeting women online. I did it because I had no one to go to the gay bars with and quite frankly I didn’t know any lesbians. It was my only outlet and it felt safe. We do what we have to do in search of love I suppose. Especially when we are lonely.

The first girl was nice enough. We talked online and gradually ended up speaking on the phone. We were to meet at the Detroit Zoo in the butterfly exhibit. I arrived first and I was out of my free mind nervous. I don’t believe we had ever exchanged photos. I entered the building where they keep all the butterflies and she was no where to be found. I knew I had been stood up. I went to the pay phones after waiting about twenty minutes and her mother answered the phone. She told me she got home from work late and was in the shower. Her mother was to advise me to wait there as she would be on her way soon. So I waited, this time outside next to the entrance.

After another twenty minutes of waiting and allowing my stomach to do flip flops I saw someone walk in that fit her description. She was carrying a flower in her hand. I let her walk past me and turned around and walked out without saying a word to her. That was number 1.

Number 2 was a bit more serious. She lived about three hours from my home. We had a wonderful pseudo romance and would talk on the phone for hours. I spent so much money on phone cards as I did not want her number to show up on my parents bill. After a few months she drove up to meet me. A friend and I met her in a gas station parking lot. She was driving a red Omni and it was covered in pride stickers. I was SO not ready for all those stickers. I got in the car and my friend drove off. I needed the moral support of a friend to make sure I didn’t run this time.

We drove around all night. She played songs for me and said they reminded her of me. I think there was a Tracey Chapmin one in there that made me cringe. I rented a hotel room for the night as I could not bring her home to meet the parents. She proceeded to touch me during the car ride. My thigh, my hair, and she leaned in for a kiss during a red light or two. I will sum things up by saying we wrestled with a bottle of wine in the hotel room. She tried to molest me and I ended up sleeping on the floor because I was so uncomfortable. She got up and left a 6am. BEEP BEEP, GAME OVER. All of that happened over five years ago and I swore I would never submit myself to the smoke and mirrors of internet love again.

A year ago a woman read some poems of mine on my livejournal. She commented on a few and our conversations went from there. It was like talking to myself but better. She is an amazing writer and I consider her my friend. Over the past few months I have found myself falling for her. The only problem is that I’m in MI and she’s in MA. There are hours and what feels like endless miles in between us. There is a part of me that attempts to dismiss the feelings I have for her because we have not met “in person.” How can you love someone you have never met? I ask myself that time and time again. But I have come to the conclusion that I have to give it a chance. I will never know the outcome if I don’t go through with it. Maybe it is all just a fantasy, perhaps our words won’t transcend into a physical relationship. But I have to find out. As a writer it is a dream of mine for someone to fall in love with my words and then me. I hope that she has done just that, because I know her words have my heart.

Who’s to say that the woman of your dreams lives in your city or your state? The internet is full of crazies, but it is also filled with people that are just like you. Yes the aspect of love can make us do stupid things, the key is to attempt to keep an intellectual head on your shoulders. Not always easy, but VERY important. There is nothing more worth trying for than love. Maybe it will be perfect and beautiful, maybe it won’t be what I hope it will be. But I’ll never know if I don’t try.