Love at First Byte

Confession. I haven't been blogging long. Actually, I believe I started in mid February with my very first post, Twist Top. It is still a favorite of mine. Of course, being a new blogger, I did as all new bloggers and started trolling trawling looking for blogs to read as well. One of the first I found was Love Letters by Cora. Her true to life profile picture lured me in, but it was her bubbly personality and snip wit made me a follower.

Cora is in the process of building a budding, blooming, blossoming a forest fire of a relationship with a tree of a man named Scope. He's quite the gentleman. A real keeper. He's also like over a foot taller than she is and looms over her like a 100 year old oak tree. But get this. She met him here, on Blogger, over the internet.

Internet relationships don't work. You're taking a chance meeting someone you've never actually met. You'll end up with the uni-bomber.

WRONG!!!

Well, maybe not wrong for everyone. Internet hook-ups have a potential for danger danger danger. Yes, it's true. But if you are careful, do back ground checks, make your relationship known to the public, and learn karate...Tae Kwan Do...Pilates...it can also be just as fun, exciting, and rollar coastery as meeting someone the typical way. I met my husband of more years than I thought I would ever stay married over the internet.

Yes. You heard me. Over the internet.

We were both avid gamers. I'll admit, he was way more avid that I was, but I was in the avid field. My baby sister introduced me to this wonderfully medieval, fantasy world called (pause) Everquest. I loved it. Imagine a network where you can not only Instant Message people, but you do that WHILE you are hacking away at some burly monster, wearing fabulous science fantasy...FANTASY people...we're talking big boobs, small waist, and tight butt fantasy...clothing, casting magic spells, drinking mead, and eating bread all at the same time! My brother-in-law was easily annoyed by my ability to meet and greet. Even in the midst of battle, I would always be in the middle of pink conversation (otherwise known as tells or er...instant messaging). I played a healer. Her name was Polnedra (I miss her so so so much). Anyway, to make this book of a story short, one night my sister, who was a druid, was playing with her friend Keiser, who was a dwarf rogue. He invited his friend, Moloc, who was a half-elf ranger ::insert man find whistle::. They needed a healer. She called me. I came a-runnin.

I would like to say that when we met our eyes locked across a room of dead frog people...the world stopped spinning...sappy music filled the air...time stopped. But the truth was, I had never healed a ranger before, so in the beginning my ineptitude annoyed him, and he kinda just ignored me. Keiser, on the other hand, was easily swayed by my elfin big boobs and blonde wit. So, I was invited back. Eventually, I was able to hook my claws...er...get my hands on...shove my way in...um...got to know Moloc. We started out as casual chatters:

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Whats up?"

"killin shit."

"Cool."

"Yeah, Cool."

Obviously, we extended our conversations to include more than one syllable words.

As time went by, we went from casual gamer conversations in guild chat, to talking in tells (I.M.'s), to yahoo instant messaging. Then one night...while lightening crashed and thunder rolled...while the wind shook my window panes like a thirsty vampire struggling to break in...I asked Moloc for his phone number. Believe it or not, HE WAS THE LEARY ONE! He almost didn't give it. I can't say I blame him. I was the freaking older woman that played online fantasy based games. But he gave in, and I not only got his number, but he gave me his real name as well. I guess it would have been kind of awkward calling him by his gaming name. Ta ha. We talked from 9 to 5. Seriously. 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. I had work in the morning. It was crazy insane. I'll be honest, by the time 5 a.m. rolled around, I was crushing hard. Real Hard.

After a month or two of phone chatting (keep it clean, girls), he decided we needed to meet. I freaked. Honestly, I didn't know if I was ready to meet him. My butt was too big, I didn't have boobs like Polnedra, and the hair on my legs have a tendency to grow inches the minute I shave. It was a scary decision to make, but I said, after about a week of pondering, yes. Yes, I said yes. He made plans, let people know he was flying off to meet a mad woman so that if he didn't return, they could inform the FBI, and flew down here. We decided to try it out, just for the weekend. I was so freaking nervous walking to his terminal.

He was just as nervous, sitting there with his suitcase between his knees, although you won't get him to admit it. He said I was hiding behind the pillar (I wasn't...I was trying to figure out which one was him), too shy to walk up to him. He stood up. He smiled. He said, "Hey, you. Come here." and gave me a huge hug...no kisses...no stress...no expectation...just a huge, glorious, hug (the rest came later).

It was one of the best weekends of my life.