GoodHands69: Hmm . . . tell me something only your closest friends would know.I stare at the screen for a long time before I finally settle on a response. What do I wish Kace understood about me?
ItsyBitsy123: I’m afraid I’m too much like my mom . . . and I feel awful even thinking that. My mom’s an incredible woman.
GoodHands69: But there has to be a reason you feel that way. In what way are you afraid you’re like her?My stomach’s in knots, and I actually back out of the message function so I can stare at his avatar while I consider my reply. How long have I wished Kace would just talk to me? And all it took was connecting on a hookup app that was never intended for talking.
Sighing, I click back into the messenger and frown. I sometimes forget this app is set up to automatically delete any messages—either sent or delivered—after you close out the messaging function. It also gives you a black screen if you try to take a screenshot. It’s all supposedly for “privacy,” but it’s obviously a way to hide evidence for the cheaters who live on here. I’ve never cared before, figuring karma will get the jerks in the end, but I’m already disappointed to have lost these exchanges with Kace. I wish I could keep them for posterity. Hey, a really great guy actually paid attention to me once.
It takes me a while to figure out how I want to reply, but when I do, my thumbs fly over the screen. I’m anxious to get out my thoughts.
ItsyBitsy123: Mom has rotten taste in men—my father included—and instead of finally finding the good guy who’d break that cycle, she just . . . stopped trying. Some days, I feel like I’m one more bad date away from doing the same.
GoodHands69: But you keep trying.
ItsyBitsy123: Of course I do. I like sex. Even the best vibrator is a piss-poor substitute for the real thing.I hit send and immediately flinch. I want to use this conversation to open up and show him who I am under the surface, but here I am, leaning on the same old defense mechanism of being over-the-top about my sexuality, even though I know that’ll make Kace throw up walls. But he surprises me.
GoodHands69: I call bullshit. Sex is great, and I miss it too. That said, I bet your fear has very little to do with physical intimacy and everything to do with wanting human connection. A partner. Someone who understands you and will be by your side no matter what.I feel like he just crawled inside my chest and wrapped himself around my heart. He’s not saying anything groundbreaking, but the idea that he feels like he knows this about me? Maybe I’m the one who’s been underestimating him.
ItsyBitsy123: You really see me. That’s . . . I don’t know if it’s comforting or scary. I feel like you just stripped me naked.
GoodHands69: In my experience, being vulnerable is like that. Comforting and scary. When it’s good, it’s both.I wish we were face to face. Instead, I have to settle for closing my eyes and imagining the hug Kace might give me if we’d had this conversation around his firepit Saturday night instead of on an app. Although I haven’t been the recipient of many Kace hugs, the ones I’ve gotten were spectacular. He’s not a cologne guy, but he always smells clean—like Tide detergent and fabric softener, and maybe a little like whatever deodorant he uses. He’s broad and thickly muscled, and when he wraps his arms around me, it feels like that strength is seeping into me.
GoodHands69: It’s late, and I should probably sleep so I’m not a zombie when I’m driving my daughter to school tomorrow. But . . . I’d like to message you again. If you wouldn’t mind?I grin. Mind? Is he nuts? I’d stay up until sunrise if he wanted to keep chatting. The idea that he wants to talk again makes me giddy.
ItsyBitsy123: You prefer the app to texting, then?
GoodHands69: If you don’t mind. This feels . . . I hate to say it again, because I probably sound like a weirdo, but this just feels less intimidating. I’d like to keep our conversations disconnected from real life. For now at least?I chew on the inside of my cheek. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I want him to want to connect with me in real life, not just on Random. But I know I never would’ve opened up about my fears if we’d been face to face, and I’m not sure I would’ve over text, either.
Maybe Kace is right, and there’s something freeing about using the app. This way we can pretend we’re meeting for the first time.