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| Milk Wood |
“Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness.”
Stephen King
Oblivious to the fact that she was being tracked down online, Sonya happily continued to share her life with anyone who wished to follow it.
The photos, the quotes, the links, each piece of the puzzle building a portrait she felt comfortable with. This was the image she wanted people to have of her – powerful, but sensitive, and a friend, especially a good protective friend to those she cared for.
And she cared for many, the known and the unknown, the ones she thought she knew well and the ones she wished she did.
The one thing she didn't want anyone to think about her was that she was gullible, a simple mind wrapped in painful feelings of abandonment and an almost childish need to be loved.
With every fragment of her life shown to the world, she covered her own image with a layer of an astonishing lack of caution.
Sonya didn't care. She had no time to waste. She jumped from one online relationship to the next, clinging so much to men that she scared them away in only a few months.
But she would not stop; she would never stop, because Sonya’s goal was to be loved no matter what, no matter by whom.
The day she decided to finally post a photo of herself online – so far she had been coy and hesitant about doing it – she received 3 private IMs, praising her. That was good, she thought.
One was from a guy she hadn't talked to in years, but whom she just couldn't drive herself to delete from her friends’ list – to be honest, she never deleted anyone from her friends’ list, just in case they needed her. The guy threw in a nonchalant “Wow!” with an avalanche of smileys waving, winking, high-fiving and clapping. She thought that was cute.
The second was from a friend who had left her hanging one night in the chat room she visited every Saturday for a bit of company. The chat room was called “Mature, Single and Looking”. She called him a friend, but he was far from being an acquaintance, let alone a friend. However, she liked saying “my friend this… my friend that” at the office. It made her look very social. His IM had a “thumbs-up” and a “kiss” smiley. That was nice. See, he was a friend after all, she thought.
The last IM was from someone she couldn’t identify. She didn’t recall his name and he was not in her friends’ list either. She didn’t recognize the name, she didn’t recognize the person on the photo, she didn’t recognize the profile and they didn’t have any friends in common. The IM said “Hot and sexy! We have a lot to talk about. Meet me tomorrow. 9pm. Electric Chair Café.”
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