The Fallacy of Online Relationships

36 hours was all it took for the madness to set in proper. I felt myself getting inexplicably pulled through space and time to lay with a stranger I couldn’t even be sure existed.

All it took was a subtle message of kindness, a superficial common ground of ideologies, experiences and misery. 26 messages were all it took for me to dive head first into infatuation.

My physical body carried on with the mundane dance of daily life. My narcissistic roommate droned on with her neuroticisms as my soul flew through the ether to find him. He was my escape from the entrapment of my life

We lay forehead to forehead, staring into our reflective abysses for hours on end. Reality was only a concept to us as we signed our souls over to each other for eternity. I felt his essence wrap round mine, entangling myself with a ghost of my own making.

I’ve spent lifetimes with him in my minds eye. Rollercoastering through heartache and love and lunacy and pain and ecstasy and lust and obsession over and over and over again until I could do nothing more than believe my own delusions.

The connection felt so real and so visceral, that falling in heart first was inevitable. He permeated my thoughts to such an extent he became a disembodied narrator, guiding me through my days and gently stroking my ego.

My instinct told me to hold on tight, although I knew deep down we could never be, not really.

My heart told me he was the one, an idea which will forever cause a dull thump to ring through my bones.

My head told me to get a fucking therapist.