ooming before me in less than a week, the annual shareholder meeting and a significant amount of work yet to be done. Yet, the last day of January 2004 began in typical form, chatting back and forth through the morning with my constant companion, CMR. He was also facing a deadline, and we spoke of our previous attempts to limit our chats to a more reasonable number of hours. Alas, neither of us could manage to be the one to say good-bye.
Nonetheless, we did and I suspect he, and certainly I, forged ahead at record speed so that we could reconvene at 10:00 PM. Hours before that, he'd popped online to ask how I was doing and to enquire if it was 10 yet. We agreed to keep to our promise to make as much headway during the day so that we could reward ourselves before bedtime.
Conversations had become rather sensual of late and this night was no exception. We had both lamented that we wanted to meet, that we were longing to meet and explore some of the things we'd expressed would be romantic and exhilarating. That's when the question of what my offices looked like came about. He asked for me to describe their general orientation and if there was a private entry or not. Were there any windows and if so, were they floor to ceiling variety. All of these questions appeared to be rather peculiar until CMR began to describe what he would like to do if he were in the room with me at that time. I dealt with the conversation with aplomb, indicating that I'd be delighted if he were here. I was not prepared for the next comment, and was taken a little by surprise.
He asked if he were to show up the next day would I ravish him in ecstasy. Since in a mere 90 days I'd no longer carry the stigma of a married woman, although my husband had disappeared more than 7 months prior, I answered that I would have to exercise a tremendous amount of restraint because the mind and flesh were willing but I thought it best to wait, if for no other reason than in consideration of him. Although I viewed my marriage as over in all sense, to the outside public and certainly to his parents and family, I was still technically married. I didn't wish to foist any sort of issue upon him when in a matter of a few months, when we could move forward without any of that being an issue.
I was shocked to see in the IM window the words, "Oh, sorry. I guess I'll catch you in 90 days then" and he promptly signed off.
What! This was not his style and at first I thought it was a bit of a joke and expected him to pop on again with a smiley face, but twenty minutes passed. Although we had chatted for hundreds of hours, CMR was normally the one to initiate contact. But when now two hours had passed and having logged off without so much as a good bye, I felt very uncomfortable and very anxious.
I sent a quick offline message, just saying Hi, but no answer. Then another asking if he was still online, no answer. By the time I was ready to leave for the night, and much earlier than I had planned as I began to feel quite sick, I was very concerned. He'd never ignored my IMs before. In fact, we'd discussed how we both would get back to each other within less than a minute in the past. Here more than two hours, and yes, he was online, just not answering my IMs.
I dashed off another, this time reminding him of how it had hurt to have DF walk out without a good-bye and how I had feared all along that CMR would go "poof" as DF had one day and I'd have no other means of contact. I asked why he had not responded and had this whole thing been some sort of a practical joke on me. Sobbing as I wrote it, I begged him to respond. No answer. My heart sank as I braved the frigid weather to scrape my windshield before heading home.
Nonetheless, we did and I suspect he, and certainly I, forged ahead at record speed so that we could reconvene at 10:00 PM. Hours before that, he'd popped online to ask how I was doing and to enquire if it was 10 yet. We agreed to keep to our promise to make as much headway during the day so that we could reward ourselves before bedtime.
Conversations had become rather sensual of late and this night was no exception. We had both lamented that we wanted to meet, that we were longing to meet and explore some of the things we'd expressed would be romantic and exhilarating. That's when the question of what my offices looked like came about. He asked for me to describe their general orientation and if there was a private entry or not. Were there any windows and if so, were they floor to ceiling variety. All of these questions appeared to be rather peculiar until CMR began to describe what he would like to do if he were in the room with me at that time. I dealt with the conversation with aplomb, indicating that I'd be delighted if he were here. I was not prepared for the next comment, and was taken a little by surprise.
He asked if he were to show up the next day would I ravish him in ecstasy. Since in a mere 90 days I'd no longer carry the stigma of a married woman, although my husband had disappeared more than 7 months prior, I answered that I would have to exercise a tremendous amount of restraint because the mind and flesh were willing but I thought it best to wait, if for no other reason than in consideration of him. Although I viewed my marriage as over in all sense, to the outside public and certainly to his parents and family, I was still technically married. I didn't wish to foist any sort of issue upon him when in a matter of a few months, when we could move forward without any of that being an issue.
I was shocked to see in the IM window the words, "Oh, sorry. I guess I'll catch you in 90 days then" and he promptly signed off.
What! This was not his style and at first I thought it was a bit of a joke and expected him to pop on again with a smiley face, but twenty minutes passed. Although we had chatted for hundreds of hours, CMR was normally the one to initiate contact. But when now two hours had passed and having logged off without so much as a good bye, I felt very uncomfortable and very anxious.
I sent a quick offline message, just saying Hi, but no answer. Then another asking if he was still online, no answer. By the time I was ready to leave for the night, and much earlier than I had planned as I began to feel quite sick, I was very concerned. He'd never ignored my IMs before. In fact, we'd discussed how we both would get back to each other within less than a minute in the past. Here more than two hours, and yes, he was online, just not answering my IMs.
I dashed off another, this time reminding him of how it had hurt to have DF walk out without a good-bye and how I had feared all along that CMR would go "poof" as DF had one day and I'd have no other means of contact. I asked why he had not responded and had this whole thing been some sort of a practical joke on me. Sobbing as I wrote it, I begged him to respond. No answer. My heart sank as I braved the frigid weather to scrape my windshield before heading home.
Pericula timidus etiam quae non sunt videt
The fearful one even sees dangers that are not there.
I don't think I slept a wink that night. Feeling drained from the antics of my marriage, like the emptied carcass of prey attached to a web, and now apparently abandoned by the one person who had understood my predicament and my vulnerable state and promised to stand by me, I dragged myself to work the next morning, like someone that had been through battle. Hoping to find an offline composed at 3:00 AM, as was his normal style, the screen was blank. I ached, everywhere. Had I made a mistake? He had suffered the agony of betrayal and I had wanted so much to show him that I empathised and would not wish to place him in any uncomfortable position. I hadn't pressed for a phone number, knowing how vulnerability feels. The computer was my only means of contact, and now, seemingly, I was not able to rouse him.
No comments:
Post a Comment