Your mother used to
tell you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the internet for he might be a
40 year old bald man who intended to kidnap you and tie you on a chair inside
his dark cramped basement somewhere only God knows. For she might be a lesbian
pedophile whose only purpose is drive her way into your body and stain you with
her sin. For they might be a predator that would (and could) eat you up alive.
But, does your mother
ever told you about this one? The one whose words feel more calming than the
smell of rain on a lazy Sunday morning. The one whose words taste like ice
cream on a hot summer days. The one whose words would echoes inside your head
like a broken record playing on repeat (you’d remember every single damn of
letters and punctuation they used on it, oh boy, you would). The one whose
words you knew would slice your heart open when they leave but you also knew
that you wouldn’t mind the bleeding and the numbing pain you’d feel.
I
love you.
It’ll feel real, fuck
it’ll feel so damn real. It’s as if you could clearly hear their voice
whispering those words on your ear with their sleepy voice every morning. It’s
as if they’re here, lying on the vacant side of your bed, arms wrapped around
your waist, face nestled on the crook of your neck, and lips slightly brushed
on your skin making your heart beats 10 times faster than its usual tempo. It’s
as if you could feel their skin just right on your fingertips.
It’s as if they’re
here.
Except they’re not. I love you. No, the words doesn’t roll down their tongue
coated in their sleepy voice greeting you the same way the sun greets the earth
every morning. Instead it came on a form of digitally transmitted
electromagnetic signal that is a plain Arial on your dimly lit phone screen.
They’re not here. They won’t ever be here.
I
love you too, but I wish I don’t.
Your mother used to tell you that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the internet for they might be dangerous in every logical reason there is. But what she didn’t tell you is that they could make you fall deep in love with them in every illogical reason there is. And that, my dear, is far more dangerous than those things she used to tell you.
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