PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY S
EAN MOSHER
SM
ITH
flirt with other women on Twitter. Soon,
my spite ballooned to the point where
I created a fake Twitter account – not
as the typical alluring female to tempt
and test him with – but as a hot, fictional
hipster guy to flirt with myself in the
hopes of making Eli jealous. (It worked!)Our melodramatic fights
and circular conversations analysing
our constantly wounded feelings were
driving us both insane. Every night, I
struggled to sleep. In the morning, I’d
wake with my stomach tied up in knots,
anticipating what excruciating or maybe
exciting situation might arise with Eli
that day. I felt so racked with perma-
anxiety I couldn’t concentrate at work.
My doctor prescribed me an anti-anxiety
medication. My best friend said she had
never seen me so wound-up about a guy.
She was right. I’d break down in
tears at the grocery store, while walking
my dog, during exercise class, wherever.
Any undercurrent of unrequited love ina cheesy pop song would do me in. I’d
spend the entirety of my working day
mentally AWOL. I was a disaster, and I
was feeling nothing like my true self.
Every few weeks, I would oh-so-
casually mention getting together IRL.
But Eli was hesitant, and it took four
months before I could finally convince
him (he had never met anyone from the
internet before and said he was shy). Of
course, I was freaked out, too. Just the
idea of our experiencing the drawn-out
equivalent of an awkward internet date
made my stomach lurch.
Still, I pushed back the start date
of a new job so we could rendezvous
halfway between our cities. I booked“My best friend said she’d
never seen me so wound -up
about a guy...”
love & lust
separate hotel rooms, but we ended up
sharing mine. When we met for the first
time, “You’re real,” I blurted, thrilled
to discover his eyes were as gorgeous
in person as they were on Skype.
We roamed the city, happy to play
boyfriend and girlfriend. But in bed, I
made the first move, and our hook-ups
were more awkward than incredible.
Still, it felt amazing to finally be with
him, but I knew the visit would be over
in a blink. When the weekend ended, Eli
kissed me passionately on the platform,
and then we each caught the train home
to our separate, single lives.
About a week later, he started to
act distant. I asked why, and he texted,
“I’m confused about where we stand now,
how I should act.” When I mistook that
to imply that he might be ready to try- gasp! – actual dating, he hastily back-
pedalled: “I have feelings for you, but
I’m just not equipped for a relationship
right now, long-distance or otherwise.”
I was nauseous with embarrassment, and
it finally dawned on me that I had been
chasing a ghost – an online ghost.
It seemed as though we’d gotten
close, but really, Eli was nothing but a
confused, confusing vessel on to which
I could project all my dizziest romantic
fantasies. And he certainly wasn’t living
up to the overblown, unrealistic dream
I’d so desperately wanted him to fulfil.
I couldn’t ignore my gut anymore.
Eli kept showing me that he didn’t feel
the way I wanted him to feel about me,
but I had refused to see the red flags.
Internet-based relationships are
necessarily based on fantasy, not reality - of course people’s hearts get broken
when they’re building false ideas about
some perfect, faraway dream lover who
doesn’t exist in the way you want them
to. Eli was not the kind of love I’d been
waiting for – calm and steadfast, with
someone who can support me, not rile
me up and bring me down. That kind
of love, I’ll keep waiting for. #
COSMOPOLITAN July 2015 133