What to do About You

Short Fiction, by C.J. Heck

What to do About You
Short Fiction, by C.J. Heck

Jessie sat at her keyboard, staring at the small black words racing across the white screen. She had only met Donald six weeks ago, but it had been a wild ride so far. She had been both intrigued and enamored. He seemed genuine, although, can you ever truly know someone you've only known online?

Jessie read his thoughts and felt the familiar surge of emotion as he deftly fashioned his keystrokes into another perfectly worded seduction. She had to smile. Donald was like an artist, only his canvas was her heart, his medium was words.

When he stopped typing, she sensed he awaited a reply. Gathering her thoughts and the questions that were nagging her, she began ... "Donald, we need to talk. Do I know you? Do I really, really know you? Sometimes I think I do -- at times, I know you better than you know yourself. But there are other times, like now, when I don't know you at all."

Jessie hesitated a little too long and Donald began typing again. "Sweetie Pie, you have to go with the flow. You know me, Baby. Someday, we'll be together, I promise. But for now, this is all we have. Talk to me, Sunshine. I know you feel the love. I do."

Jessie took a deep breath, stretched her mind along with her fingers, and filled the screen with her own thoughts to send across the miles. "Something is happening, Donald, I agree. Your words have caught me up in something big and, yes, we've made a connection here in a short time. But is that love? How can I know? We've never been together. Why is that, Donald?"

Jessie paused to collect her thoughts and immediately, Donald's words appeared on the screen. "C'mon now, Babe, this is how everyone should fall in love. You and me, we've learned to love each other on the inside first, for who we truly are and looks don't get in the way. Get a grip, Babe."

If only Donald would say what she needed to hear: "I can't wait another minute. I'm getting on a plane this afternoon. I need to be with you. I want to look in your eyes and see the love I feel reflected back. I feel like I'll die if I can't hold you and breathe you in, and fill my soul with you. I love you, Jessie, and I can't live without you."

Somehow, Jessie knew she would never hear those words, but she tried once more, "Donald, I believe you only think you know me because I'm a writer and you've read some of my writing -- but those are only parts of me, thoughts I've sheared off to rhyme or not rhyme. But that's not knowing -- at least I don't think it is.“

This time, Jessie didn't stop typing and her fingers flew. "Donald, your wants and desires scare me sometimes and my instincts tell me to run and don’t look back. Why won't you come and see me? I need to hold you. Where do we go from here, Donald? What do I do about you?"

Jessie stopped. Donald's thoughts filled her screen. She had to admit, he was smooth. But now, reading fast so the tears wouldn't blur the words, she read something different. "Geez oh man, Jess, what the hell? It's too bad you feel that way. You know how I feel about you, Baby, but you're moving too fast for me. Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore."

Jessie had seen enough. The last words she read before clicking the Power Off button were, "Just remember, Babe, this was your choice."