“She loved him. And then she hated him. But even as she hated him, she loved him still.” —chasy

She loved him for how he made her feel when they were together. He loved her in a way that no other man had to that point. He saw directly into her heart. He saw the truth of her and he because of this, loved her unconditionally. He would swim through her soul, crossing through her veins, sweeping her up in his current, leaving her feeling completely loved and immersed in his warmth. That was, when he was with her.

Weeks would pass and she would hardly see him. She would wait and endure the loneliness, craving to feel the way that she would only feel when he was with her. She hated him for making her wait. She hated him for making her feel lonely and alone. Why couldn’t he love her the way he loved the internet? Why couldn’t he give her the same attention he gave his timeline? Why did she always take a backseat to his online world?

Just as her hate would reach a point where she’d finally have the leverage on herself to leave him, he would be back. He had this way of making her feel in ways that she didn’t understand. She would look into his eyes and she could see the intensity with which he adored her. She could feel that intensity filling the space inside her that been empty. When he was present, he would consume her with his attention. It was overwhelming but that’s what she wanted. She wanted to be overwhelmed by him. She wanted to be filled completely by his love. She….

She would become the focus of his world but it was always just temporary. As much as she loved him when he was with her, he would slip away again. He always slipped away again. His love was like a sand mandala. Soon he’d sweep everything he’d given her away and they’d have to start all over again. It was so ****ing draining. Draining….

She had never felt as connected to anyone as she did when she was with him. He was her everything. He’d pour himself over her, filling her gaps. He was comforting like an old-wool blanket that kept her spirit warm. He’d wrap himself in her. She couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. She loved every inch of him as he loved every inch of her and she could feel his glow. As his love spread through her, the hate she felt for him was replaced by her love.

When she would wake up the next day, he’d been gone again. He’d quietly slip away. She’d hear the faint tapping of the keyboard. She knew he’d be back but it would be sometime before he’d embark on his return journey from across the hall to be with her again. He was a bastard for doing that to her. She didn’t want to live through that pain again. He was a bastard and he was relentlessly focused. Yet, she could not leave. Not yet. Not until she kissed him again. She was hopelessly trapped and she hated him for it.

This post was inspired by the following thread on Kwippy.com:

http://www.kwippy.com/chasy/kwips/2008/sep/15/195445/

What is the story that comes into your mind when you read this quote? Who is “she”? Who is “him”? What happened to make her hate him? WRITE! :^)

Another example of how we can use social media. I chose to write nerd-core fiction. How will you use your social media today?