Everything was blank and no words came to me. But my desperation – for what? A man I barely knew? – won in the end and I started typing.
LeahH: Hi stranger…
I bit my lip and waited, the seconds it took him to reply feeling like hours.
Moderator34: hey, Leah, how r things?
With anyone else it would have irritated me the way he shortened his words, but with Julian it didn’t seem important. Not when someone as seemingly great as him was talking to me. And not when, for the first time in years, I had dared to take a chance and started to let someone in.
Leah H: Good thanks. With you?
Moderator34: not great. work stuff. boring. but glad you’re online.
I felt the usual excitement at Julian’s compliment and wondered if I should return it, say something, anything to cheer him up.
LeahH: Anything I can do?
I cringed at my own words, but it was too late to take them back. How was I coming across to him? He really would know I didn’t have a clue now, that I was naïve and inexperienced with men.
Moderator34: Just talking to you is enough
For an hour and a half our messages flew back and forth, and I soon began to feel comfortable, typing without worrying, Julian continuing the conversation each time I thought it was about to end. It was true that sometimes we became like the people we surrounded ourselves with, because the more messages that passed between us, the more a sense of humour that had long been buried in me started to resurface. I liked how Julian made me feel. I couldn’t explain it, but I definitely liked it. Needed it.
During our conversation, I told him everything I could let myself reveal about my life. I played down the part about being a loner, of course, and anything that had happened prior to leaving Watford, so as far as he knew, I was London born and bred.
It was nearly ten o’clock when we finally said goodbye. Although we’d talked all this time, nothing had been said by either of us about meeting up or even talking again online. But whatever had passed between us was enough for me. I couldn’t think beyond talking. I would let things be as they were.
Feeling at peace, I made a cup of tea to take to bed. Today had been okay. There had been no surprise mail and I’d just spent hours talking to Julian. These things might seem too insignificant to bring happiness to most people, but to me they were huge deals.
And then I made a big mistake and checked my emails on my phone. Most were junk mail but then I saw one from [email protected] , the subject line once again blank.
Knowing it was from my tormenter – that’s what I’d resorted to calling him or her, for want of a better word – I should have deleted it, but something compelled me to click on it, and then it was too late. There were a few lines in the body of the message this time, but that only made this correspondence worse than the others. Much worse.
Do you really think any man could be interested in you after what you’ve done?
I reread the email. The words weren’t going to change, but maybe reading it again would help me make sense of it. The problem, though, was that it made too much sense. I knew exactly what these words meant and I also knew that this was not going away.
And then it hit me that whoever this was knew about the website. They must do. Those words could only be about me talking to Julian.
I hadn’t felt helpless in a long time. I’d made sure I was never put in a position where I would be, and up until then it had worked. So I was unprepared to feel as if the ground had been knocked away from me. I considered replying to the email, telling whomever it was exactly where to go, but that would only encourage them. They would see they were affecting me, and that was the last thing I needed. No, that was not an option.
Could I call Mum? I’d kept her out of it so far, not wanting to drag her back into my mess, but at least she might understand. I scrolled down to her name on my mobile, and
LeahH: Hi stranger…
I bit my lip and waited, the seconds it took him to reply feeling like hours.
Moderator34: hey, Leah, how r things?
With anyone else it would have irritated me the way he shortened his words, but with Julian it didn’t seem important. Not when someone as seemingly great as him was talking to me. And not when, for the first time in years, I had dared to take a chance and started to let someone in.
Leah H: Good thanks. With you?
Moderator34: not great. work stuff. boring. but glad you’re online.
I felt the usual excitement at Julian’s compliment and wondered if I should return it, say something, anything to cheer him up.
LeahH: Anything I can do?
I cringed at my own words, but it was too late to take them back. How was I coming across to him? He really would know I didn’t have a clue now, that I was naïve and inexperienced with men.
Moderator34: Just talking to you is enough
For an hour and a half our messages flew back and forth, and I soon began to feel comfortable, typing without worrying, Julian continuing the conversation each time I thought it was about to end. It was true that sometimes we became like the people we surrounded ourselves with, because the more messages that passed between us, the more a sense of humour that had long been buried in me started to resurface. I liked how Julian made me feel. I couldn’t explain it, but I definitely liked it. Needed it.
During our conversation, I told him everything I could let myself reveal about my life. I played down the part about being a loner, of course, and anything that had happened prior to leaving Watford, so as far as he knew, I was London born and bred.
It was nearly ten o’clock when we finally said goodbye. Although we’d talked all this time, nothing had been said by either of us about meeting up or even talking again online. But whatever had passed between us was enough for me. I couldn’t think beyond talking. I would let things be as they were.
Feeling at peace, I made a cup of tea to take to bed. Today had been okay. There had been no surprise mail and I’d just spent hours talking to Julian. These things might seem too insignificant to bring happiness to most people, but to me they were huge deals.
And then I made a big mistake and checked my emails on my phone. Most were junk mail but then I saw one from [email protected] , the subject line once again blank.
Knowing it was from my tormenter – that’s what I’d resorted to calling him or her, for want of a better word – I should have deleted it, but something compelled me to click on it, and then it was too late. There were a few lines in the body of the message this time, but that only made this correspondence worse than the others. Much worse.
Do you really think any man could be interested in you after what you’ve done?
I reread the email. The words weren’t going to change, but maybe reading it again would help me make sense of it. The problem, though, was that it made too much sense. I knew exactly what these words meant and I also knew that this was not going away.
And then it hit me that whoever this was knew about the website. They must do. Those words could only be about me talking to Julian.
I hadn’t felt helpless in a long time. I’d made sure I was never put in a position where I would be, and up until then it had worked. So I was unprepared to feel as if the ground had been knocked away from me. I considered replying to the email, telling whomever it was exactly where to go, but that would only encourage them. They would see they were affecting me, and that was the last thing I needed. No, that was not an option.
Could I call Mum? I’d kept her out of it so far, not wanting to drag her back into my mess, but at least she might understand. I scrolled down to her name on my mobile, and
Similar Books
