Chapter 1

Love magic exists ... and I can prove it. I live it every day. Imagine if you had someone to whom you could tell everything. I mean everything. All those dirty little secrets you have in your head, that you don't think anyone would accept if they heard ... you could bring those out and talk about them. Imagine if you had one night where you had a dream about a mutual friend of you and your partner's, and you could wake up the next morning, grin about it and discuss it in detail with your partner, with no repercussions, jealousy, or awkwardness. Imagine how it would feel to live life as yourself, truly and completely, holding nothing back, suppressing nothing, and to be truly loved, not just tolerated, for every last bit of you.

I met the most wonderful person in the world eight-ish years ago ... in a bit of an unusual situation. We came aware of each other sitting next to a filthy, stinking midden heap in an arctic wasteland. See? Different, right? At the time, we both happened to be dark elf sorcerers. Yeah, it was one of those silly online games, but this one was sillier than most. See, there were no graphics. Of any kind. Text-based online RPG! Hang on, I think my nerd horns are showing. I'd been playing this game for quite a while when we met (as measured in years ... yeah ... I know ... hush... ), as had she, but the "world" was big enough that we never had occasion to become aware of each other. It also helped that I played the game to "win", being intimately familiar with every last inner formula and tactic for mechanical success, and she played the game to, well, enjoy it. She socialized, explored, imagined, and lived her character while she was in-game. As a result, the odds of us ever interacting were slim and none.

On the fateful day in question, I had ... come into possession of a new character. At the time, in this particular game, it was highly frowned upon to purchase characters from other players, but there were no hard and fast policies forbidding it, so it was a practice I indulged in from time to time, in an effort to "win" that much better or faster. So it was that I logged into my newly acquired character ... and arrived at the aforementioned midden heap. There were a scattering of people there resting, and I immediately started logging data about my new toy. I was halfway through when I started drawing glances from another character sitting there. I perfunctorily responded with a few banalities, expecting to just move on, as I always did. There was hunting to be done! Then she asked me if I was cold.

Cold?

Sure, she replied ... you aren't wearing a whole lot. I blinked a few times, then checked my inventory. Naked as a jaybird. Now ... this was just a character. What did I care? I'd just go buy some gear and get out to the slaughter. But this other character was giggling and some sort of response was expected. I could see the humor of it, and tried (for maybe the first time, as crazy as that sounds) to put myself into the mindset of my character. I stammered, blushed, and fidgeted as best I knew how (not having any real reason to ever use any of the roleplaying-style verbs, I was a bit awkward), and she teased, giggled, and snickered a bit. And I had a blast. I fell into the persona of this character quickly and easily, and just ... had fun. More particularly, I had fun with her. Our senses of humor clicked from the first. Not in an uproarious manner, but just in a gentle way, where there wasn't anything forced. I didn't know this person from Adam. Or Eve, as the case might be. A lot of people play the opposite gender online, ya know...

Our first encounter stretched for about half an hour ... and it FLEW by. Neither of us was in any hurry to move on. I was a little taken aback when I realized that I hadn't even finished my data logging of the character, much less done any hunting, for that whole half hour. All I felt when she said her goodbyes was a sense of wonder. I couldn't believe I'd had that much fun, and that time had flown by so quickly. I'd asked her when she'd be around next, and secured a rough timeframe for the next day. I decided I'd make damn sure to be there, as it was the most fun I'd had in quite a while.

People played this game for different reasons, as I've said, but there was a bigger underlying reason for almost all of us. It was an immersive environment, and escapism at it's finest. And for me at that time, escapism was something I sorely needed.

I'd gotten married at 19 years of age, before I'd even really grown up. I hadn't had any idea who I was as a person, or what I wanted. As a result, I found myself at the tender age of 24, buried in a poisonous marriage, and firmly believing that things were the best they were ever going to get for me. I had chosen my path, and things were what they were. I lied to my wife with regularity, just because it wasn't worth the fights that would ensue. She was always pushing for more from me, and from our relationship, but the things that she wanted 'more' of weren't the things that I counted as important. She wanted more money, more trips, more projects, more jewelry, more promotions ... and I wanted more sex, more intimacy, more acceptance, and more empathy. We were at cross purposes, and it seemed like I was the only person who knew it. We'd talked about it several times, and come away after days and days of tearful negotiations with newfound resolve and promises that things would change. But then they wouldn't, and I didn't know why. In the end, I'd pretty much given up. I didn't have much of a support system around me, save for my best friend, who was openly hostile toward my wife, and told me constantly how bad the things she was doing were.

I guess I should throw out an example, to make it a little clearer. At one point I was in the market for a new car, and at the time I was commuting almost 100 miles on the dot to and from work. My trusty old Corsica had thrown a rod in the second week at the new job, and I ended up at the car dealership trying to negotiate a bad deal without a lot of money, credit, or leverage. I needed to buy a car right then, that night, and my trade-in, which I was upside down on, was sitting 60 miles away with a thrown rod. I swear, you could see the salesman's heart skip a beat as I related my story. I think I saw a tear of happiness, but I'm not positive.

I looked at all of the cars on the lot, with a serious eye on gas mileage and affordability, and ended up deciding to get a Geo Metro. I know, glamorous, right? But it was economical as hell, and cheap. So I made arrangements to come by the next day with the down payment they'd need, and pick up my new car. I told my wife all about it, and she agreed that I was doing the right thing, and had made the right choice. The next day my buddy went with me to pick up the car, and we were sitting with my sales guy when another car pulled up in front of the dealership. I glanced, then looked again. It looked good. Not, like, some kinda crazy euro sports car ... it was a simple little sedan, but it was pretty sleek, and looked, well ... good. I jokingly asked the sales guy how much that one would cost. He pulled a few numbers, then came back and said that it would run me about 7 bucks more per month than the Metro.

Whoah ... done and done, as they say now. A couple hours later (they can't do ANYTHING fast at the car dealer, I swear... ) away I drove in my new maroon Cavalier. And I loved it. This car was roomy enough for me, had a lot more pickup than the Metro, and got similar gas mileage. Plus, it just looked good, and I felt good driving it. I called my wife to let her know I was coming by the store where she worked to show it off, but didn't tell her about the switch. I was giddy driving the thing, and couldn't wait for her to share my excitement, and pride at getting such a good deal.

We pulled up outside of the store and my buddy went in to get her. I sat on the hood, grinning like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. She came out, and took a long look at the car, then at me, then back at the car. She didn't say anything, so I started to gush about the car, how inexpensive it had turned out to be, how happy I was with it (in that order ... that was my best chance of appealing to her sensibilities), and I finally ground to a stop, realizing that something was wrong. I asked her what the problem was, feeling a little hurt ... and she proceeded to reach a hand up, jerk off her engagement ring and throw it at me, saying something along the lines of "if that's how little you care about my feelings, then I don't even want this any more".

No, really.

She went back into the store and left me staring, completely flabbergasted. I had absolutely no idea what the hell had just happened, and my buddy was staring at me, waiting for some kind of explanation. I didn't have anything to say to him, though, because I didn't understand it even a little bit. I'd love to tell you I charged back into the store after her and we got into a huge, molten row over everything, and I told her to keep the damn ring, because we were through.

We got married roughly a year after that particular event.

Looking back at it, I was primed to cheat on her. I just was. I'm not the cheating sort, really ... at least I don't think I am. But there's something to the mumbo-jumbo "alienation of affection" that lawyers and psychotherapists throw around these days. I had it in spades, though I didn't realize it at the time. My wife had wanted to wait for our wedding night to have sex, and I had been all excited. Virgin on the wedding night? Yes please. Though I don't really remember much about it these days. I know we did it, but it damn sure wasn't memorable. It's not about physicality, and it never was. But we'll get to that.