The pen and the soul.

Bullseye at heart

Winter is over now. Widget and Chicken are finally asleep at my feet after hours of noisy horseplay. I said goodnight to Bonnie and mom already, and now I'm just sitting under the blanket waiting... I'm not sure what for, or why, but the anticipation is keeping me awake.

The screen of my phone turns on, and off, and on again as I check for messages and change music until an alert makes me jump. Its from a man, 22 years old and rugged. In his profile photo, he wears a black cowboy hat and glasses. Wide-framed shoulders and chest hair poking out from the collar of his partially unbuttoned long sleeve.

"Hey. I noticed you like music and Horror movies. Your bio says you want to know mine before we start talking?"

"Yeah. They're easy icebreakers and let me know you aren't some scam."

"Gotcha. I'll screenshot my list for you."

As I read his top picks, I can't help but smile at how old and dated the choices are. Something in the character and message of older works really draws me in and makes me want to understand. Seeing as how someone only three years ahead of me can have such mature taste, I decide to go for it and see what else happens.

After a few hours of texting, I realize something. Talking to this man, whose name I don't even know, is easy. I find myself compelled to engage him; driven to make him look at and listen to me. Something inside took hold, and I asked him:

"Why did you choose to talk to me, out of all the other girls out there?"

And his response... Kind of hurts...

"It was by chance. Everyone tells me I need to 'get out there' and build confidence, so I looked for someone else that seemed alone like me."

"So if I had a friend or another guy in the photo, you would have ignored me, even if we could have gotten along?"

"Yes."

The frankness of the reply digs deep. 'He would just pass someone by because they aren't alone? That's kind of cruel.' But that alone doesn't stop me, so I press on.

Within three days, I'm addicted. Talking to him for even a few seconds makes my heart race, or brings a grin to my face. Being away from my phone at all makes me weak and sad, and I lose focus at work thinking about him waiting for me to text back; and I do text back.

"Hey. What are you up to?"

"Just waiting for you to get home."

"What the heck? You didn't do anything at all while I was gone?"

"Smoked a joint and had a few shots of vodka. Listening to music if that counts."

"You smoke weed? I've never tried it."

"I can promise you I do a lot of things you should never attempt. I won't stop you if you want to though."