Imprinting

He was arriving today and it was time she left for the airport. Equal amounts of terror and excitement battled within her, as they had been doing for days. Her hands trembling, she grabbed her keys and purse, checked her hair and makeup, took a deep breath, and got in the car. The adrenalin was pumping, her breathing shallow as she started the car and began her drive to pick him up.

They had been corresponding on the Internet and phone for almost a year – exchanging a few pictures, but mostly they had lived in each other’s heads for the entire time. She often wondered if their feelings were similar to those one acquires for a wonderfully drawn character in a novel. Even now, she couldn’t decide.

Did she really know him, or had she agreed to meet a total stranger?

Did he really know her, or had he projected onto her some kind of role she would never be able to realistically match?

Would their cyber chemistry survive the light of day?

When he had told her he would be in Dallas on business she was ecstatic and joyfully agreed to spend time with him. Their experience together had indeed been love at first keystroke. Yet, within only a few hours of emailing her answer she began to experience episodes of fright-induced butterflies, the same things she vividly recalled from her teenage years.

As the car pulled into the parkade, the radio station began playing Bob Dylan’s “Lay, Lady, Lay.” As the next line began – lay across my big brass bed – she forcefully hit the off button and slammed on the brakes. Alone for these last few moments it was evident a little self-talk was in order. ‘Okay. You are a grown woman. He knows you better in many ways than you know yourself. He has been unfailingly kind and generous, and certainly knows all my hot buttons (smiling to herself at the recollections that flooded her). Pull yourself together, lady, put on that smile and deal with this.’

The car door opened and her tanned legs emerged. It was summer and she had worn emerald green strappy sandals with her long summer skirt, halter top, and matching green leather belt, slug low over her hips. She’d let her hair naturally dry so it was sweet smelling and soft, flowing down her shoulders. The swing of her hoop earrings followed the swaying of her hips as she walked into the baggage claim area to meet him. Rather than holding the yellow rose in her teeth, as she jokingly told him she would, it was stuffed into her belt, glowing against her dark shirt. Looking quickly around she located a spot where she could watch for him without him seeing her first.

♥

The international passengers began to gradually trickle in after clearing Customs. He waited patiently in line as the people in front of him slowly snaked their way past the steady, searching gaze of the immigration agent. His anticipation of this meeting had grown exponentially over the past few days and had resulted in him now being so nervous that he was almost jumping out of his skin.

It was hard to believe that all these months of IM’s and phone calls were finally going to come to fruition and he was going to meet this woman who had consumed his every waking thought for so long. It seemed like they knew each other so well; how could it possibly be that they had never met? They had so much in common: books, movies, politics, humor. And their cybersex exchanges lasted hours and were more fulfilling and satisfying than practically any physical encounter he’d ever had. She knew him like no other woman, and it was that knowledge and openness that had drawn him ever closer to her.

Next Page »