Like a Moth to a Flame

Lisa 3

I must have dozed off again but I swear I could hear James' voice calling my name. I turned my head towards the two way mirror because that's where I heard his voice coming from and I waited for it to continue, so that I'd know he was still alive and that this was all a nightmare. But there was nothing but silence as Detective Reynolds walked back into the room, sliding a soda towards me. "Sorry, I know I said coffee but I just can't do that to you, so I got you this." The warmness of his eyes has returned and he's once again waiting for me to continue my story. I take the soda as I've not had anything to eat or drink since yesterday.

Putting the soda I dig a bit deeper into the box I've stored everything James in. "I remember feeling giddy to hear from him, almost privileged as he had shared something so intimate with me. I felt bonded to him because of this. I saw him as a wounded child and something within me started to care for him. Each monthly check in call from him would bring us just a bit closer. Those monthly calls turned into bi-weekly and weekly calls. "Lisa, where the hell have you been? I need you!" James' voicemail sounded rushed and desperate. I could only guess as I dialed his number, what drama he thrust himself into now. "Some chick's husband is after me because she was sending me pics of herself on this profile I created and let me say they were pretty damn good. Anyways, she was pleading with me to not let her go since he had found out. I'm not into that mess. But you know what this prick did? He looked up my info. Online and knows where I live. He threatened me Lisa. I have a gun and I'm not letting this pathetic dude get away with making threats."

It had now been 4 years and our giddy talks now had shifted to a sister/brother type relationship. I worried about how erratic and needy he could be. Sometimes if things weren't going his way with something he had become interested in, say, a woman, he'd go and do something self destructive. He'd take part in reckless behavior and there were days when his daily calls would go unanswered because I just couldn't handle the stress and drama he needed to survive. I felt for him, but my gosh, sometimes it became too much and I had my own life, my own worries and there wasn't any time for his self inflicted drama.

Detective Reynolds is now taking notes as I continue. "I'll make this statement before I continue. Up to this point, James and I hadn't ever met. We exchanged profile pics of each other and he seemed like the type to really want to be accepted. Wanted. Needed. From the photos I'd seen, I felt maybe he was trying too hard at times to impress someone. Not sure whether it was me he was trying to impress, but I didn't feel that instant attraction that one would normally feel. Its like his attempts were blunt arrows on my heart. But I'll give it to him, he was relentless in his pursuit. "Never give in, never give up," was the motto he liked to repeat from time to time. That and "everything is done in self interest."

Reynolds is still writing so I take a deep breath and pause to see if he's actually paying any attention because this retelling is starting to cause this stinging sensation within me. He looks up from his notes, eyes fixed on me, taking in the details of my face as I do the same to his. And for a brief moment, I felt what James tried to illicit within me with his photos. Want.