Although some may trivialise the importance of online friendship, I can’t even begin to explain the impact it has had on my life.
Over the Internet, I found a handful of people who shared my views and kookiness and made me feel less alone in the world. These people were open and welcoming, friendly and funny, and made me think that, just maybe, I wasn’t such a terrible person after all.
I can’t talk to them anymore and it feels like my heart is breaking.
At at the end of the day, when the house goes quiet, I lie in silence and think about them all, wondering how they are and what they’re up to.
I think about their relationships and hope that they’re safe and well after broken ones, and that they’re exploring new beginnings. I think about those who have been together for years and hope they’ll always be as happy and in love. I think about those in new relationships, hoping that the initial rush of excitement remains as they explore and settle into each other.
I think of those who were ill and undergoing all kinds of brutal treatment and hope that they’re doing well and are still managing to keep their wicked sense of humour. I think of those who were despondent and struggling and hope that the dark times are over and that they’re happy and will still be there when I get back. If…
I think about house-hunting and threesomes and new jobs and poetry and flirting and the awful possibility of no longer being first reserve and then I scrunch my face up and just wish that they’re all happy and healthy and safe.
Then I fall asleep and dream of them, too. My saturated brain concocts faces and voices to fill the gaps where information is lacking, but I know who they are.
And I miss them all.