One thing I knew about myself was that I wasn’t good at listening to people. Not like Jordan was. I didn’t even know what kind of advice I could offer to him when his situation seemed so much worse than mine. It wasn’t like I couldn’t relate in some way, but I didn’t want to make it all about me, either. He just needed someone to listen to. I kind of wanted to be that person for him. It seemed like he didn’t have anyone else, and I knew that feeling, too.

I didn’t think I had fucked it up too badly, though. It seemed like he still wanted me, which was good, because I was beginning to realize I didn’t want this cyber thing we’d started to end. When I logged back online for the third night in a row, he was there again, waiting for me.

Where the previous day had dragged on, the next one flew by; the minutes didn’t crawl as they had before, instead disappearing before I could count them. I was even less focused, my mind buzzing with thoughts of Sam, and everything he’d gotten me to open up about. It felt good to get all that off my chest, but I knew that nothing was really going to change. And realizing how unhappy I was, but knowing there was nothing I could do, left me with feeling cold.

But somehow, I couldn’t find any regret. It did feel good to let it out, to be truly honest with myself about my lot in life. And it wasn’t that I loathed it so much; I had a wife that truly cared about me, and four beautiful children who were my world. I reminded myself that while this wasn’t the life I’d chosen, or hoped for, it wasn’t all bad. I was grateful for all I had, for all the blessings in my life; and now, I reminded myself with a smile, I had one more person to be grateful for.

Zac asked if we could cut rehearsal short, saying Kate needed him at home for something, and I was all too happy to oblige. Nat was going to visit her parents for the weekend, taking the kids with her, so I was online far earlier than usual, this time alone in the house. I took the opportunity to be comfortable, setting my laptop up in the living room and lounging on the couch. I laughed at myself for getting so excited about chatting with a total stranger, but Sam was more than that now. He meant a lot to me; more than I’d expected, and more than I probably meant to him, I realized, my mood dampening a bit. But as his name popped up, I broke out in a gleeful grin, determined not to let my insecurities stand in our way.

My mind was reeling when I stepped away from my laptop, slamming it shut decisively. Jordan was wrong. He had to be wrong. Who was he to say anything about my life anyway? He didn’t know me. I hadn’t even given him my real name and I had only revealed a few other facts about myself. So what if he had seen a side of me that no one else had seen?

But that wasn’t really me. That was just… part of the game. What happens online stays online, right? It wasn’t anything real, just like I had told him. I carried my laptop back to the bedroom and looked at my wife laying in our bed, fast asleep. That was real. Not what I “did” with Jordan.

I slammed my laptop shut in frustration. There was being naive, and then there was plain denial… and Sam was halfway into Egypt. But that was only half of it… After everything I’d shared with him, everything we’d shared together, to have him brush it off as just “words on a screen”… It hurt far more than I was willing to admit.

I started to think maybe I was getting in over my head. After all, wasn’t Sam right? It wasn’t real, was it? I didn’t really know him, so how could I really be… But no, it was real… I knew it was. But if Sam wanted to pretend it wasn’t, then fine. I wasn’t going to waste my emotions on someone who didn’t, couldn’t return them.

And yet, the next night, when I sat staring at my computer screen, waiting half the night for a message that never came, I couldn’t stop my eyes from misting, couldn’t lift the weight on my chest. The next night was even harder, and the next. After the third night with no sign of him, I sighed dejectedly, resigned to never hearing from him again. It hurt, but I would get over it. I’d have to. I just hoped he would be honest with himself, someday.