She met him in ’92; she was a Goth seventh grader like one of those kids from South Park. She read Kerouac and Roethke and Ginsberg and Plath; not really understanding their works, but really making a connection to their words: music to her soul. Abstract expressionist art had grabbed a hold of her, too, and she became a 12-year-old hippie chick born during the era of Reaganomics and discomfiture: vague disorientation and cynicism that followed her and her colleagues into their adult lives where heads of state have no backbones and heroes are felled by corporations and money.
Feeling bruised from surrounded by the wall (to steal a title from Pink Floyd), the Internet became 12-year-old hippie chick’s escape: the road that Kerouac may have hitchhiked had he been a product of Reaganomics and discomfiture. She traveled daily, mostly at night, reading everything, looking at everything she could conjure on her little PC. His artwork caught her eye. Spiritual animals traversed skies of clouds, and names like Cloud Bear and Sky Hawk excited her; these were images from her dreams. She was one of them. She had a name. She had a place in this world after all.
Then with a click of the mouse, she found his poetry and fell in love. She became a follower of everything he added to his site. She created her own site, sent out an invitation, and they became friends via their guest books. Their conversations became lengthy, so they traded emails, then partook of lengthy online chats. And all that time, while she grew from a disoriented seventh-grader to a spiritual college woman, she knew he was old enough to be her father, that he was married and had a family, and considered her no more than an adoring fan. But she was more than that. Even now, she’s in love with him in the truest, signified sense of the word.
Their friendship has lasted and has remained unbalanced. How wrong of her to want to break up his marriage and have him all for herself, to align her life with his.
Sages have cautioned men about women like her since humans first set words into motion, and have given her horrible names to shackle her in shame. But she has done nothing so far as to fall in love with him, this guy she knows … that time has played a cruel trick on her to never have.