I’m on my way to Dallas, in a PC12 Pilatus. I chose the cheapest airfare for the Dallas Gift Trade show. My flight departed out of Nashville airport. I forgot how long the entire flight is, but there’s a layover in Greenville, MS.

I’ve been officially home since Sunday. So, after about two months, I was home for four days. I’ll be gone a week this time, returning Thursday evening. I’ll be going to Dallas for a couple days, then San Francisco, then Vegas.

It’s a small plane, and the slightest turbulence is felt. Very small Cabin. It’s nice tho. Feels regal.

I went to therapy yesterday morning. It was good to see Dr. C. It’s been eight weeks before I saw him last, and a lot transpired. I caught him up on all my traveling and escapades, as best I could given the fifty minutes or so we had together.

That afternoon, I received a strange text message from someone claiming they met me months ago on Tinder. This could only be one person: D. I called her out and told her I knew it was her, and to text call me because I was leaving out of town the next day. She did, and called me. She then proceeded to tell me how she knew I was on Tinder, as if I was committing some grave sin. I proceed to tell me how I expressed my desire to marry her prior to me leaving. I said that was always my intention, but it would never work, and that her last little melt down proved that to me beyond any reasonable doubt.

She wanted to argue and quibble over insignificant disagreements and understandings, and wanted to shame me or condescend me for not living up to some idea she has in her head of the way I’m suppose to be, and the way things are suppose to be.

I told her I didn’t want to have these conversations with her. She objected. I told her if she wanted to talk about us, because there is no us, and no obligation I have to her or anyone about my personal business, that we can discuss it with my therapist. So I told her that she could meet my therapist and we could all talk together, in a controlled setting. Surprisingly, she agreed. And eagerly. Although, I’m not quite sure. Perhaps because she feels she is genuinely losing me. Whatever the case, I call my therapist and he agrees to see us both. Our appointment is a week from tomorrow, on the 27th of January. So that’s that.

Linnea and I have been talking again, although she dropped off the map the past week due to skiing in the Swiss backcountry with her brother, though I’m not sure which one. I believe there is Joran, Axel, and… one other. Joran lives in San Francisco, Axel in Copenhagen I believe, and the other… is Anders. That’s it. And I believe he’s in Paris with his wife and children.

Linnea is a strange phenomenon. She’s a dream, literally and figuratively. A dream because she embodies everything I could desire in a woman. Quite literally. Sentimental, nurturing, deep, reflective, educated, cultured, well traveled, well read. And I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful physical embodiment of a woman. But… like a dream… she exists only in my mind: I haven’t experienced her first hand. Only through email exchanges. And this has been ongoing since October 4th, the day of my birthday, when our first exchanges took place. Sometime mid November we had a misunderstanding, a falling out of sorts, when she planned to visit, and I cancelled two days after telling her to come. My cancellation was abrupt, albeit justified in my mind, but in hindsight too terse considering the sentimental exchanges we had up until then. She’s sent me a recording of her speaking in Swedish, and a recording of her playing guitar, and countless pictures. But she has not picked up the phone to call, despite my frequent requests. What is she hiding? Is she real? Or is this some twisted romance? She confessed her love to me over email, and I returned the sentiment, because it’s true, I’m in love with the idea of her. But I need to experience her first hand. Who is this girl? What is she like? I need to breath her in, I need to touch her skin, feel the warmth of her neck on my lips. I need my hands to feel her flesh, grip her bones, grasp the life inside her and delve into the depths of her gaze with my own.

I thirst for her, yet I’ve never tasted. What is this strange love? This dreamy lust? Where have my judgements taken me? For what?

She says she’ll be in the states by the end of January, and we shall see each other soon after. I beg my hopes are justified.

One thought on “Dallas”

  1. Linnea was fake, I had very similar email exchanges with this person in May and June 2017, and they used literally the same words with me as they used with you, then just stopped responding. Probably sent me the same photos, same recordings.

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