V: And what might that be?  🙂 

I can’t suppress the smirk that just forced its way onto my lips, trying to picture a smile on his face even though I have absolutely no idea what he looks like. Funny enough, I haven’t even made up an image of him even once, can’t manage to picture him whenever he invades my fantasies…which is a lot more times than I’d like to admit.

Tinaturner1990: I just realized something…

I swallow, cracking my knuckles as I think of the best way to word this without coming off the way I fear I will.

V: Yes?

Deep breath.

Jesus, I don’t why I’m reacting like this. There’s really nothing at all to be nervous about.

Just get it over with already, Tina…

Tinaturner1990: I don’t know your actual name

I’ve been dying to ask him for a while now. But, for some reason, every time I get the urge to—which is every time we chat, as well as the many times I find myself thinking about him when I’m very much offline—I seem to chicken out. Or forget. Or intentionally suppress the desire and force myself to ignore it altogether.

I’m not even entirely sure why. It’s a simple question. Standard, even. But, for some reason, it kind of feels invasive on some level. Not to mention extremely belated.

I mean, we’ve been talking for months. It would be weird as hell to ask a person their name well after they’ve already shared a great deal of other, sometimes quite personal details with you.

Plus, he never actually asked me my name. And there was zero prodding needed. I unwittingly volunteered that information right up, along with my birthday since they pretty much go hand in hand.

Then again, maybe a part of me simply enjoys that aspect of the fantasy, finding a certain appeal in him going by just a single initial, the deliberate choice adding to his mystery and allure, removing a layer of anonymity and yet adding another at the same time.

V.

The 23rd letter of the English alphabet.

Two, laterally inverted, diagonal strokes that are mirror images of each other.

It could stand for anything.

Vincent.

Victor.

Vladimir?

Tinaturner1990: Lol. I dunno why it didn’t really occur to me until now

It’s the bullshittiest lie I’ve probably ever told, but the hell with it. I’m not about to bare my true feelings to him on the matter, and I’m eternally grateful for the ability to feign aloofness that the almighty Internet affords.

A pause follows. Much longer than I care for.

One minute goes by.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Four.

Oh God, I scared him off…

I start to type frantically, my fingers flying across my keyboard, backtracking and saying he doesn’t have to tell me his name and it was just mild curiosity that lead me to ask it…

But before I can hit send, the familiar chat chime sounds off, signaling another message from him…one that stills the air in my lungs.

 

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To be continued…

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