The Online Experience

April 12, 1996

He took me there, against that cold bathroom door in my familiar local tavern. And that wouldn't be the last time that night. The evening progressed with us enjoying our time with locals while sharing coy kisses; he seemed to relish in the assumed cover of anonymity my small town provided him. We walked back to my apartment that night, cutting through the well lit campus littered with large, overbearing brick structures.  Buildings I'd alway thought of as the homes of knowledge and enlightenment that night felt stark and out of place in the world we had created for our selves that week. A world where we were inseparable, the only protest against us coming from the occasional harsh voice through the crackling of long distance phone lines. As we sat making out in the fashion of love sick teenagers  on a college campus bench I tried my best, in my slightly intoxicated state, to memorize every detail of his body with my rushed finger tips. I would try that again upon our arrival at my apartment and again in the middle of the night.  Our bodies were inseparable that night; we were young people without a care or responsibility in the world except our responsibility to see to each other's primal needs. We explored each other thoroughly, not knowing when we would ever have that chance again. His embrace felt like home, the sturdy roll of his hips a soothing comfort; I knew that night I would never get him out of my body, or my mind. He was going to be a part of me forever, and I wouldn't have it any other way. As our hearts finally settled back to a normal rhythm in the early hours of that morning, the curled fuzz decorating his breast bone tickling my cheek, I savored the feel of his damp skin pressed against mine and I found myself wishing the moment didn't have to end.

"So," my fingers toyed the the heavy gold chain hanging delicately around the smooth column of his neck, curious digits tracing the links until they came to the low hanging symbol, "I'm gonna miss having you around here." Eyes focused on the weighty object in my hand, gasping it as my own personal talisman. A single calloused fingertip touched my chin, gentle pressure bringing my face up to his. The wealth of emotion flowing behind his passionate hazel eyes stole my breath.

"I'll still be around mama," hand reveling down from my chin ghosting over the curve of my shoulder and along the sensitive skin if my right arm, leaving a trail of hot goose bumps in his wake.  Fingertips finally wrapping right around my unsteady hand, "at the tip of your fingers."  The joke was not lost on me, bringing a small smile to my lips as we stood there next to the door of my apartment. Getting out of bed had been a struggle that morning but we finally had. We shared a quiet shower and an even quieter breakfast until we finally found ourselves here.  His bag was packed and our goodbyes were beginning, reluctant though they were.

"So back to typing it is then?" the question coming out of nowhere as my mind scolded me for thinking things would really change after this week. Nothing had changed for him in his day to day life, in his career, in the way he needed to present himself to the world.  Nuzzling into my shoulder, soft lips packing at the sensitive skin of my neck.

"For now, I'll call you when I get home." slender, yet hard arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me up firm against his warm body. Lips tentatively touched mine. "I love you Sydney." words mumbled against my mouth as we fell into yet another heated kiss. I let myself drown in the sensation of his lips on mine, hands gripping at my body, and at some point we found the strength to beak away.

"I love you too." my words were breathless and as heated as our kiss had been. He wasn't much for long good byes, I could see in his eyes he had been through enough of those in his years and leaving was best approached like removing a Band-Aid, at least for him.  He was gone before I knew it, I watched from the second floor walkway as he drove away in his sleek, black rental car to the local airport a few towns over to meet his plane. I found myself sitting in the deefening silence of my apartment thinking about our time, wondering what was going to happen next and generally not knowing how to feel about what could possibly come next. A few hours and a few beers later I was sitting cross legged on the couch letting our long week replay through my mind as the front door came open.

"Wow am I glad ot be home, this week was a a fuckin' mess." Alley announced as she hauled her large black suitecase in behind her, slamming the door. Her eyes landed in mine as she quicly surveyed the scene around me, tissued, empty beer bottles and my generally dishevled appearence. "And you little miss," coming over gto plop herself down on the couch next to me after grabbing erself a beer from the fridge, "I think I need an explanation."

"About what?" my forehead wrinking in confusion as I watched her take a large, satisfying swig from her bottle.

"Well," kicking her shoes off and turning to face me on the couch, "lets start with why the Artist was at our front door when I left." she pushed her blonde hair back behind her ear as she waited patiently for whatever answer I was planning on providing her.

"I told you we met in Minneapolis." hoping but knowing fullwell this was not going to be enough of an answer for her.

"I assumed to two met in passing sort of thing, not you met and he could show up at our place anytime sort of met." her eyebrows flew up in a suggestive manner. The first laugh I'd managed since he left fell past my lips as I felt my cheeks heat up at her implication. "So, tell me about his visit. I'm assuming he stayed for a few hours at least." I watched the condensation roll down the side of the amber colored bottle gripped tightly in my hand.

"He left a few hours ago." he loud cough caught me off guard as she tried to swallow her mouthful of beer.

"He stayed all week?!" a small smile came over my lips as she continued to stare at me, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Hold on, what about Miko?"

"We're over, have been for a while now."

"So let me get this straight. My straight arrow, never does anything bad roommate is messing around with a married man, and that man happens to be the Artist?"

"Don't tell anyone," my eyes meeting hers, "I dony want this to. . ."

"My lips are sealed girl." throwing a quick smile in her diredction I peeked at the clock. He had left over 6 hours earlier and I had expected to hear from him by now. He'd said he would call when he got home, but the truth was I wouldn't hear a single word from him for over a week, until April 20th.