From: ender@uunet.uu.net (Pete Walsh)
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat
Subject: A story from an anonymous friend...
Date: 30 Sep 1992 00:31:14 -0400
Organization: UUNET Technologies Inc, Falls Church, VA
Distribution: world
NNTP-Posting-Host: rodan.uu.net


Hey there gang!  Here's a story written by a "lurker" who wishes to remain
anonymous, at least for the time being.  This individual requests your
thoughts and considerations on this piece.  If you post your responses
the authour will read them, or you can email them to me and I will
pass them along...


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Well, here it is:



"You know, I love you but sometimes I really don't like you very much.
Or rather, what you do to me. I hate having to say this, but it's about
time I stopped trying to sidestep sensitivities and avoid upsetting
everyone," she wrote.

Tremulously, she logged off and tiptoed out of the computer room, in an
agony of uncertainty at the reply which would come bouncing back to her
from the ether.

"Sometimes I hate the fact that he's so far away," she thought for about
the millionth time in almost a year and a half. "At least if we were
closer we could have a proper argument for once and settle things instead
of having to grapple with blinking green lights on stupid computer screens.

Walking back to her room, she recalled the Easter break they'd both spent
in College halls of residence. He'd been busy working on a dissertation,
but she'd seen to it that he was amply distracted -- and then some. As the
memories came, she smiled wryly at the evocative emotions they conjured up.
Then remembering their argument, she sighed.

To say that it was a new one would be the understatement of the year, she
thought. More accurately, it was part of a long-running cut-and-thrust
which didn't seem to have any perceptible end in sight except the one
she was dreading. She didn't want to lose him, but not being able to make
up her mind about whether or not she *wanted* him in her life was a
question she couldn't answer. She realized the way she was covering her
bases with him. It *was* nice having him in her life; was she just so addicted
 to the idea she didn't want to be left without someone? She couldn't decide.
Sometimes, her vacillation filled her with self-loathing.

The fact that they were from different worlds (literally) hadn't really
mattered at the start. Living on different sides of the planet wasn't a
big hassle when both were together at university. Besides, she hadn't
given much thought to consequences. Taking it one day at a time seemed
a good way to see things. Of course, even then she'd known that at the
end of the school year he'd have to return home, but she had decided that
it was better to have those couple of months with him than nothing at all.
But something had come up at home and he'd had to leave early, leaving a
wealth of things unsaid behind, decisions unmade. That was a mistake, she
conceded, but he'd been worried about the trouble at home and she hadn't
wanted to pressure him with anything else. It would've been barbarously
unfair to have done so.

Mentally, she grunted.

"The story of my life. Trying to be considerate and fearing to offend.
So where does it get me? Absolutely nowhere."

It would've been easier for her if he'd been a brute, of course. Then
she would've had no qualms about letting him know *exactly* what she
thought of their constant inability to settle matters between them. But
he wasn't. Thoughtful, if not as regular a correspondent as she would've
liked, he did love her. There were the occasional phone calls, too, and,
as always, e-mail during term time. He sent sentimental cards which brought
blushes and goofy grins, wonderful presents, and most of all, left her with
no doubt about how he cared.

Even so, this long-distance thing was wearing her down. He still had
graduate school to complete, and she her final year, after which she would
have to return home to the job awaiting her. It wasn't something she could
get out of, either, for the next few years at least. Unless he decided to go
out to her part of the world and carve out a career for himself there, she
didn't know what was to become of their relationship.

Her first foray into
the arena of "serious" relationships was leaving her breathless, too. She
wasn't sure if this was the right one for her. Or if it was going to lead
to something like life-long commitment. She cared about him, but didn't know
if this was love. In any case, she ruminated, what *does* it mean when
people say "I love you"? It was all so over-used and over-rated, it had
somehow become cheap. What is love, she began, then backed away from a topic
for which she had not been able to come up with answers.

As for him, he let
her know that she had a place in his future, but everytime he tried to bring
it up, she shied away. It was all too uncertain. She couldn't decide if she
wanted to be part of his future; she was too young to jump into a commitment
which might mean long years of long-distance existence, with meetings being
few and very far between. As it was, they already hadn't seen each other in
over a year. She felt awful for holding him off the way she was, but she just
didn't know her own mind, and the situation was taking a toll on both of them.
He felt like he was being made to feel wrong for wanting what he did, and the
more she tried to show him her confusion the worse things got. If they hadn't
cared for each other, it would've probably degenerated into a free-for-all,
she thought grimly.

That day, though, she'd finally blown up when he suggested that to spare her
the burden of responsibility, they be 'friends', the premise being that
it was the assumption that they were more than friends that was getting them
into trouble. Long afraid to hurt him by telling him exactly how she felt --
which she knew was wrong but couldn't bring herself to do -- her anger had
given her the necessary impetus at last. She only wondered what his reaction
would be.

His answer, when it arrived, was characteristic of him. He'd realized, he
wrote, how stupid this all was. On a computer, it was just words he was
reacting to, not her. And if she were there by his side, the last thing
he could do was hurt her in any way. If he'd been insensitive, he was sorry.

Smiling a little, she clutched his printed reply closer to her, wishing it
were him holding her instead. One more time, they had made it through the
battlefield of doubt and misunderstanding, but it remained to be seen how
matters would culminate in the long run......




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Author's note: so what should happen next?



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