And the first time you meet her by Parker Diaz

And the first time you meet her you don’t meet in the traditional sense. You meet her in a few words sent across vast electronic space. All you know of her is a single message; you don’t even know if she’s even a her. You respond, polite, she responds, enthusiastic.

And then three days later you’re telling her things you’ve never told another living soul. There’s something about the air she emits even through the LED screen that makes you trust her. Your mother told you never to trust anyone on the internet but if there’s one person in the world you don’t trust it’s your mother.

And then you see her face for the first time in a photograph she sends you and she’s cute, and you tell her so, and she dodges the compliment but you can’t stop looking at that picture.

And then you’re talking daily and she knows your class schedule by heart and you know which job she’s working when and she knows the amount of pills you take every day and you know the names of her nephews.

And then she’s telling you that if she had the chance, she would take you away from the darkness that haunts the corners of your home, and you’ve never had anyone offer to rescue you before and you want to cry because you’ve never had this kindness and compassion directed your way. And then you are crying because you’ve been hurt but she’s somehow making it better and swearing not to leave you.

And then you’re always looking for a decent signal so you can talk to her just a little bit more and every class change and work break is given to her and your heart leaps each time your phone buzzes and you get in trouble for being on your phone in class but you don’t care.

And then she tells you she loves you.

And you hear her voice for the first time that night and it sounds like home, more of a home than your parents ever gave you. And you talk long enough that your phone call is cut off and you have to call her back a second time.

And two weeks later you’re her girlfriend and she’s your girlfriend and a month in you’re planning your wedding and two months in you pick your children’s names and three months in you have your first argument but it only lasts two hours because you can’t be mad at each other for that long and you fall asleep to the sound of her voice more often than not.

And eight months in the first time you see her in person you hug her so hard your glasses leave a mark on her cheek. And her arms around you are so warm and your bodies fit together in just the right way. And she’s so much more beautiful in person and you love her and she loves you.

And then you love her.

Parker Diaz is a genderqueer lesbian currently attending the University of Richmond. She/ze studies queer history and creative writing, and enjoys combining her two loves to create art. Predominately a playwright, Diaz also writes short stories and poetry.


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