Online Lovers

by Ann Patty

  For both of us, the timing of our union was serendipitous. Unconditional listening lacked in our marriages. Having an audience for our writings was another. What we were lacking in our home lives, our reciprocal emails gave back. We had both endured a 30+ marriage fraught with almost identical issues. Quite frankly we were exhausted. Our spouses seemed to line up as an exact match. We often joked that we should set them up together.

  On one of my writing sprees I pulled a big disclosure. I told John of my bipolar and how it affected my life and marriage. A whole heap load of hurts were piled inside that email. In turn John wrote me back the most incredible love letter. He had been married prior to this now wife. He described his life with wife number one as ideal. Almost. They possessed a life of passion and commitment. Reading about this slice of his life of nirvana, I became enamored. John and his first wife had been deeply in love. And then he told me: that his first wife had been bipolar. I was floored. What were the odds that the universe would line up another coincidence?

  Bipolar had been a huge wedge in my marriage. Yet, John had learned to revere this disorder. However, life with wife #1 did not last. Bipolar was too new to them and it was something that went astray. This condition went unchecked and ultimately caused his marriage to fail. John stated that he lost his wife to the affections of another man. They had married quite young, so assuredly there were other factors in the mix. There always is.

  Our conversations grew in depth and breadth. From taking this road less traveled to stretches of new back roads. After all these years, I now read from another man that I was okay, despite my bipolar. And quite possibly because of it. John was able to revisit a happier time from his youth. On many levels I probably was reminiscent of John’s first wife. Especially when it came to passion, love, and sex. This glued John to my side. Daily our emails flourished. It was measuring up to be an incredible journey.

  At this time, even with most all of our cards tossed on the table we still held back the wild card. We were not yet sexually intimate on line. Plus, there were still more revelations to come.

  I have always been sensitive. Meaning I could feel unseen energies. I have been this way since childhood. Having bipolar may have enhanced this gift. However, as I have aged my sensitivities have grown. I don't consider my abilities necessarily special. Any more so than the many others folks. Living in the path of the heart, puts a person in the position of hearing beyond. During this current age many humans are becoming enlightened and aware of other dimensions. It really is not a far stretch of ones imagination.

  Along with this competence of spirit there is another old soul aspect. The ability to cross boundaries of universal laws. Specifically remote viewing, out of body experiences, and soul travel. You are probably thinking that this loony author is turning a book about OnLine Lovers into a psychic journal. Well, this book would not exist except for the incredible story that was written with my lover and myself.

  We went on an email adventure that far surpassed either of our expectations. So unbelievable in fact I could not have made our story up by myself. I don't have that kind of imagination. Neither did John. Given time we both recognized we had the making to an incredible set of books.

  So why is the book hiding in pieces inside this one? Well, to publish our story it is prudent to have both authors permission. That is the honorable thing to do between friends. Also, since John is still indentured to his life I do not want to cause embarrassment to him or his family. Someday John may step forward to publish our risque memoirs.

  As of now the world may not be ready for such truths. I am not sure I want to let go of such highly personal escapades. This slight soul journey and recollection of tidbits will have to serve homage to what has been. In the meantime readers of this book will have to trust what is said to be true. And to read between the lines.

  The Gift

  John and I wrote from Sept 2009 through about February 2011. We both invested a great deal of time writing, responding, learning, loving, laughing, sharing, hurting, wanting one another. In the end being grateful for our time together was all we were gifted with.

  John's story gets top billing here. It illustrates a typical emotional swing in an online relationship. Our online experience was intense. Every bit as serious as a face to face romance, except there was no body to touch, lips to kiss, or arms to hold me. Our passions were so great and consuming. We got so caught up in our own story that we were actually professing our love to one another online!

  Seems a silly thing to say, but we would tell each other repeatedly, “I love you”. At the time it filled a void inside each of us. These simple words that validate oneself were not heard inside our marriages. So to have these words whispered even inside an email meant a great deal.

  Over the year plus that we spent in email heaven, I began to recognize the endowments John bestowed upon me. John left me with numerous achievements. First he restored the Goddess in me. Somehow during my marriage I lost the feminine part of myself. I did not have validation or human affection from my husband for years. I all but died. It is true that I did not need John to restore my self confidence in this arena. Yet it was John who reawakened me to what was deprived. Sometime you don't know what you have lost until someone points it out.

  Bipolar had always been a huge issue in my marital relationship. There were stigma hurdles we never got past. I was/am a fully functioning person that raised children, had professional careers, and carried on a 'normal' life. My friends always pointed out that I was the most 'normal' person they knew. Yet, when I wanted to address marital problems, bipolar became the scapegoat. This was a major stumbling block. A primary factor that determined why my marriage had gone a drift so sadly.

  John loved that I had bipolar. Instead of seeing this as a disorder, he believed bipolar as an endowment from heaven. He encouraged me to write. Together we dreamed about life's possibilities. Of course, our dreams did not happen. But, his vision had hope. Threads of a future that did not seem possible before, now had been given life. I was not totally naïve. Acknowledged, I was a conduit to an early life time that John wanted to reclaim.

  Rather than be jealous, John should be allowed his brief encounters with yesteryear. He was excited. At the notion that perhaps he might to do it over. Here I was his second chance to get it right. In returned I was thrilled that John revered my bipolar. For the first time I could write about it freely without restraint. And as out there that some of my writings got, John was unwavering in his support. If he believed I needed to readjust my medications, he gently nudged from afar.

  For the first time ever my bipolar was no obstacle. It was the catalysts for dreams. Never in my minds eye did I comprehend this possibility. In online heaven everything was possible. Forget obligations, spouses, bills, chores, work and mundane daily habits. Stolen moments found in the In box where nirvana, slicing of stolen Eden where time ran out at the end of the paragraph.

  John's love for me was unconditional. Well, at least he said so. Of course I believed him. I wanted too. After a lifetime of boundaries that was liberating. Not knowing how to respond I wanted to run back to familiar territory, fall into old patterns. Letter after letter John reiterated that he wanted me to go and explore every avenue of what life had to offer, including other men. He was quite open. Wow! Eventually he said, when ready I would drift back his way.

  How many lovers, online or not, give their lover complete immunity? Of course there is a surreal sense of reality about what is permitted—or not and who does what outside email land. Especially when that is where your life stays put; captured inside a billion electrons.

  Yet, paradoxically we formed commitments, and expectations, strange as it sounds. When you are writing your lover every day you believe and live inside the words you write. That becomes your total relationship. Words link you to that other lover.

  John was a passionate man. Not only in emails, but far more than what any imagination can conjure up. His assessment of us being old sou
l lovers from forgotten times didn't begin to describe our needs and wanting desires. Visually enticing words repeatedly teased me. Johns was a master of touching my mind erotically. For the first time in forever I was viewed as a sexual being. Someone handsome wanted me. What a rush.

  Courage was never something that I believed I lacked. It was definitely an asset John endowed me with to act upon my divorce. It was almost as if that was the job he had come to make sure I’d complete. For once my separation and divorce was under way, John heavily retreated from my email line of sight. Would I have carried out my divorce myself? Yes. Although knowing someone else validated my decision was a god send to my ego. A counterbalance to my wavering sense of self doubt.

  Acceptance Belonging, Happiness, and Learning about myself were all intended endowments. Basic thrills equaled terribly human, raw encounters. Belonging as a couple, something outside of my experience propelled my self worth back into the acceptable category. Albeit online, given enough letters there was much to be learned.

  John gave me myself back, or at least parts of myself that had been long forgotten lost. Perhaps had we actually met and touched our relationship might not have the same intensity or desire. Truth be told many of his pictures did not immediately thrill me. A few did. But you know how it is. When you come to know a person’s soul, that is all that matters.

  I have friends who have gone online to seek of their one and only. Each finds some opposing answer in their quest. One close friend says if nature intends for her to meet her mate, then he will be dropped on the street where she will find him. She won’t use the Internet for such purposes.

  My sis went on line. The family was entertained with her bantering essays and more. After several weeks and phone contacts, she declared that it was way to much effort. Then in a flash-pan thought, my sis prompted me to try out online dating. Amusing barely covered her idea. If sis only knew my escapades on line!

  There are 'success' stories out there. One of my good friends actually met her husband online. There is hope in cyber space. Guess there is no one shoe that fits all.

  The Write Stuff

  For all I know behind the most crafted word smythe, John could have been your average online creep. A petty thief. Or, he might have wove a tail of responsible family man so tight that even a shred of doubt would not be cast upon his character. He was legit. It was easy to tell because he was so genuine. And, given enough information eventually I was able to check out his work place and more.

  And if we were ever to per chance meet in the 'flesh' as John would say, the truth of us would have become apparent. There is nothing like meeting in the physical to know if there is any physical attraction.

  During our intense interludes there was no second guessing that if we had met, we would have continued our sexual story book. We had the hots for each other. Period. Our chance encounter, our online meeting was the plan of fate. Two of us, both who were murdered in our marriages, by abandonment had so much common ground. When we met secretly inside email, it was a sheer thrill.

  Awaiting inside email our passion became a volcano of eruptions. Hot, steamy and flowing. Our writing reflected our desire for one another to the likes that even surprised me. Our words became our vehicle for lust. We created descriptively intense scenarios that would put any porno script to shame.

  Highly personal and way too private we both remarked that our emails had built into one incredible storyline. But for now our story remains to be shared. Secretly, we each confessed of our deepest sexual desires. Then we exploited them into stories of how we would carry out our fantasies. With each other of course. Most of the time. Nothing was left to imagination. Nothing was off limits. And none of what we wrote got old. New twists topped old narratives. Addicted, we simply could not get enough.

  Whether we could meet the challenges of what we wrote in person, was hard to say. There was a point in time that we both believed that upon meeting we would consume one another. Ravaged by passion we were sure we would sweep ourselves into oblivion.

  Our souls bled through time and space to where we merged as one source—one soul. John actually said he could smell the essence of my fragrance that I wore during this time. This was intriguing as I never wore perfumes as a norm. Yet, during this period I covered myself in hand creams, soaps, sprays and incenses all of Lavender!

  Our nightly soul travels continued for over a year. Unbelievable as it sounds we found ourselves in the comfort of each other nightly. Out of body experiences tend to take place when there is a physical or emotional trauma. John and I had suffered emotional and physical abandonment from our marital partners. Rather than seeking a quick, emotionless affair we held our psychological isolation inside our psyche. We are both passionate people that sought a meaningful attachment.

  Consequently, our spirits escaped our physicality to be 'touched' if only inside nightly dreams. These declarations may sound preposterous, but the depth to which our souls were capable of metaphysically was credible. Especially when validation of our passions came the next day. Perhaps, someday sharing our story would help human consciousness to fathom reaches outside our dimensions.

  If I were to meet John now would my urgency to mate be restored? Truly it is hard to say. If I were attached to another mate probably not. I tend to be one loyal b*itch to one master. Also as too much time passes, it wanes my desire for John. Sex is one of those human emotions that needs to be kept fresh to be retained alive. Once broken, old flames become old flames.

  I do not know if my attraction to John was ever real. In the sense that we never physically mated we were not tangible in 3D. Yet, our emotions, our lust and passion for each other were very genuine. We were vested in our online relationship as any couple in 3D. There were reciprocal expectations and commitments aside from our immediate families. There were rules to our engagement that were not broken. This is an oddity due to the nature of our online capacity. Yet we lived a good portion of our lives thinking about the other. And that is why to the day I find it difficult to understand John's next steps.

  If John were to appear one day before me I would have mixed emotions. I tend to carry a grudge when I believe I've been betrayed. I was abandoned in my marriage. And, as far as I'm concerned John did the same in our online relationship. Without warning during my darkest hours he left me. That is right, John disappeared. John absolutely knew this was a sensitive point for me; that of not knowing.

  His own issues aside, there was absolutely no excuse for not dropping me a quick Dear John note. I deserved that. At the minimum. Especially since the bigger slap was that John found time to leave messages for a society he created on Facebook. Let's see > John stopped writing me, but he found time to write on Facebook! Odd that months early I asked him to get a FB account. No, he said he didn't have one. The evidence speaks for itself. Okay, there is something wrong with this picture. IT STINKS. John is a closet online lover that never had intentions to be found out.

  The signs were there for months. He was starting to drift. His timing was horrid. I saw him abandoning me as other family fiascoes emerged, including a siblings death. And even after I told John my grief, which he acknowledged, never did he write in support again. Selfish pig was all I could think. Actions speak louder than words and in this case words were sufficiently loud.

  The toughest thing for me to handle was that John could not close out our relationship. Instead he floated like a flake away. For over a year our friendship flourished and this is what I don't get? No good-byes. No thank you it's over. No explanations. Nothing. He knew that giving me his truth,, whatever it was, was all I wanted. I can handle the truth. Yet, John did not have the decency to give only a few words to me.

  For a bit I speculated why. Maybe he had good intentions to get back online with me. That is why he left it open. Perhaps he went back into the womb of his wife, a much easier choice of life. Especially since she was the only one working, and he lost his job. That was mean. Anyway he was quite interwoven inside his ex
tensive family ties. Understandable that he would not walk away. Perhaps there was too much shame around finding your own joy—his own happiness. Easier to settle? John was really a dreamer and started to admit it in his last emails. He had given up on his dream of us, or even of seeing if there was an us.

  We never met even though there was ample opportunity. I was available. He copped out by choice. From the get go John had never intended to make good on his dreams. What is sad is that for being that miserable he does not seek a better peace in his life. Guess that is the difference between us. I dream and DO and John just dreams. And John is like most folks. They don’t pursue what they say they want. We would have never gotten along. John compromised himself to stay safe. Me? I wanted to breathe again. Find my joy. No compromises here.