February 15, 1996

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He didn't show up online this past Sunday and he hadn't mentioned not being available at any point during our last conversation. Our last conversation, now that was something that has been running through my mind on a never ending turntable. His words and his hesitance to tell me at first have left me wondering if that was really how he felt, if he really wanted me in that way or was it just a result of his current frustrating situation with Mary. Either way, that conversation has certainly left me in quite a state, one I've not been able to shake. But it also made me wonder about him not showing up online this past Sunday. There was a fear resonating through me that our last conversation would cause him to shy away from me, granted running away from things was much more my style, I still wonder if that was a possibility given his hesitance to tell me in the first place about his feelings as it were. But there was also a nagging feeling about something else he'd said that night, something about having a lot of things he wanted to tell me. Late at night, as I couldn't sleep, my brain would run wild trying to figure out that those things could be, but still I was at a loss.

It was late Thursday night and I'd managed to put all thoughts of Jamie into the far back of the brain, mostly because I had things I needed to get done. I'd spent the majority of my day on the 3rd floor of the library, finishing up some last minute research for a paper I needed to finalize tonight. Now I was sitting at my computer, comfortable in grey sweatpants and a white shirt, the remaining half of my grilled cheese sandwich sitting on a crisp white plate next to my half full glass of Chardonnay. My fingers were so familiar with the keyboard I barely needed to look at them as they crafted the last few pages of a paper on the changing face of democracy in the U.S. My web browser was open as I'd needed to complete some last minute research on the major political parties current platforms. The browser was minimized as my fingers transcribed the last quote I'd be using from the book my eyes were currently focused on. My ears perked up at the sound of the messenger system telling me someone was talking to me, but I couldn't be bothered. It was probably one of my classmates asking me to proof read their paper, but I was in the home stretch, just my conclusion to go and I'd be done. The chime alarmed a few more times over the course of the next half hour as I finished the paper.  Finally sitting back in my chair and finishing the last of my now cold sandwich I closed out of my paper and took note of the messages on the screen behind it.

SixStringGuy: Hello Sydney.

SixStringGuy: Sydney? You there?

SixStringGuy: Are you ignoring me? Upset with me for some reason?

SixStringGuy: I need to talk to you.

I was completely taken back to find him online, it wasn't Sunday. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen him online that wasn't a Sunday. My stomach was instantly in knots as I noticed he was still online, waiting.

Grumpybluebear: Hi Jamie, Sorry I was finishing up a paper.  I wasn't ignoring you on purpose. 

SixStringGuy: Ok. I thought you might after our last conversation.

Grumpybluebear: Oddly enough I thought maybe that's why you didn't get online this past Sunday.

SixStringGuy: No. Nothing to do with that. I enjoyed our conversation.

A blush colored my cheeks a deep red as his words cause a my mind to sink back into the conversation and fantasies we shared.

SixStringGuy: I need to talk to you Sydney.

Grumpybluebear: go ahead, you have my full attention.

SixStringGuy: No. I don't want to type, I want to talk to you. Can I call you?

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