by: Lee A. Zito
That Saturday morning he called me from the bus station. I thought this moment would never come, but today I would finally be meeting what I thought was my true love.
A little over three years ago I had first talked to him over the Internet. We were totally different people. He was twenty-three, I was fourteen, but that didn't matter. We shared the same thoughts, the same views, the same world. It was real, not only were we in love, we were best friends. We talked all day long, on the phone or Internet. My parents didn't really know too much about the relationship, to them he was just a name. My friends on the other hand, thought I was nuts. Dirty Internet men were nothing new, they all knew the stories and never failed to constantly remind me of them. My situation was nothing like that though.
This was love. At least I thought it could be love.
On my way to the bus station, I wasn't feeling love. It was a lot of mixed emotions, but not love. With no radio on, the drive was completely silent, but my thoughts were loud, it was as if I was shouting in my mind. I was freaking out, panicking.
"What if he's ugly? What if he's ugly?" That became the one thought that exceeded the rest of my worries. It was all too late to tell him not to visit me now, he was here, and he was waiting for me. I turned into the bus station and stared at all the people who had just come off the last bus. Waiting for their rides, they crowded around the benches. None of them remotely resembled the pictures I had received from...