Lastly...

''I could take a look for you"...

The email said.

That was the first time they spoke.

In reply to rants about burns

Then it all started, boy meets girl, far across the oceans and seas.

Their conversation is endless, probably for fear that the chemistry might start to diminish with each passing second...first the emails for he was on the move, then to messenger when he wasnt.
It had no destination.

A week went by and there was no sign of life from that end. Then she thought, ''yes, I've done it again". "Like I always do, managed to chase him away"

The following lines were "please put me out of my misery and tell me what I've done", half hoping he wouldnt come back with a "ýour sarcasm"..for she knew that though she meant to be witty most times, it bordered on being rude.

"Nothing", it said.. "I've just been very busy". Ön the move, remember?"

Her thoughts read, "yeah right". ''Í know busy''. ''Busy is; sorry, I dont think this is working out and we'd rather end it, before it begins''

But for once... or so she thought, busy did mean busy.

The following weeks went past and it started to seem like, they were ''born to do it''.

Born to just talk.

On and on, till the sun set on one end and rose on the other. Till the hours trickled into minutes and minutes into seconds.

It was as though they were trying to play 'catch up' on not knowing each other since birth. Trying not to blame life and their parents, for choosing to live on separate ends of the country.

They say the start is always rosy.
The smell is always fresh.
The taste is always sweet.
The feeling is soft and warm.
The start is always rosy

Weeks later, came the transitions.

''May I please call you baby''? No one had ever asked that before. It felt like a trick question.

''No? Yes? Do as you please''? ''Why''?

Then the heart jolting, mind shaking question came.

''Why are you so rigid''?

''I beg your pardon''

''Yes, lacking emotion''. he said. As though in her veins ran lava, molten rocks as opposed to blood. Whilst her bones were a mixture of cement and bone tissue. So he must have thought, for her, feelings didnt exist. They might have just been a combination of eight letters of the alphabet, meant for describing someone who was human, not her.

''Dont you see the signs''?

''What signs''? She asked? At this point, thoughts were failing her, and ultimately, words.

"I like you very much and you know it, if not for anything, for the fact that I tell you every day, and all you do is smile and veer the conversation in a different, unrelated direction".

Words still failed.

''I tell you that I miss you, even though the only time not spent talking, is time spent sleeping''. ''So why are you making it harder''?

Then the thoughts came flooding in...its current was overwhelming. ''So why am I being rigid''? She asked herself''?

The waves of thoughts couldnt be held back in any longer. It forced its way to the shores of her lips and an ''I like you too'' followed suit. ''But honestly, I find it hard to say these things''. ''I'm a very reserved person and besides, you have just come out of a long, 'probably would have ended in marriage' type of relationship''. ''I didnt want to lead you on and take advantage of your vulnerability''.

''What do you mean vulnerability?" ''it's no big deal. We are just friends, telling each other how we feel''.

Imprudently, the word ''friends'' didnt register, but the rest of the sentence did.

Months later, 'friends'' then vehemently came back to bite her in the back side.