MESH

Frank looked for the words in his head to match the harmony of Francis’ last note. They had be communicating via hand written letters for over a year now, so it had to be good. They had met on the internet on one of those flighty hook-up sites and instead of jumping into bed with one another, the two had started a queer intercourse of their technological age.Francis’ profile did not have a picture of his face, but the prose of his page drew Frank in. Even though Frank had never seen his face he felt that he had known him for many years over. Francis had applauded Franks last letter for its truth and brevity. Frank did not know how to follow up with another knock out love letter. He found each beginning as trite and hollow as the next. Francis had rendered him silent. Still to continue the discourse Frank had to respond. At last he vomited out the following:

[Fuck the Pain away of not knowing your touch on the small of my back.

Tell the pain to move to my sex, and there torment the very fabric of myself until it burst.

Cum.

No Cum is too weak Heaven will bring me to you in a new way that neither our selfs can imagine. ‘I want you’ is too fragile. ‘i need you’ is a bit better.

So take your lover as he is spread before you,

OR walk into the sunset unfed.]

It was quite terrifying yet,he could not imagine anything else for his dear beloved. That’s strange. Is it so strange to have these developed feelings and opinions of someone you have not met face to face. Many people meet on the internet and find what they call ‘true love’, so “Why not me? “ Frank thought. You see they were due to meet the very next day and he found himself stuck. Stuck in a cloud of lust over the idea of another man. It was clouding his ability to see Francis as he had made himself plain in his letters. A rather mild  man with few inhibitions. But to Frank he was taller than a skyscraper and able to leap them in a single bound. Frank was drunk on his assumptions.Still he went through his night routine humming to himself the whole way.

The next daylight came through Frank’s bedroom windows with a starkness that knocked him out of bed. He quickly got out of bed and got dressed in a hurry. There was a tingling in his fingers as he ate his breakfast.He looked up at the clock and couldn’t hurry the minutes along quick enough for his taste. They had set for the meeting to be at a Starbucks that was half way between their two houses. They had set to meet at 1pm. Frank arrived at said Starbucks 15 minutes early so as to pick a seat with a good view of the door (he was wearing his black jeans with a light blue button-down shirt (just as he said he would in his letters) so he could see Francis’ face  the moment he walked into the coffee shop. At the stroke of One a rather handsome man came almost running into the Starbucks. He was flushed as though he had been running laps around a track, His strong grey eyes were searching for someone among the crowd of people sipping their lattes. He finally landed on Frank, a brightness swept across his entire being, he smiled and began to walk towards Frank. Fran rose to meet Francis and the two shook hands, both of their palms were sweaty. “It’s nice to finally meet you Frank.” Francis spoke. His voice was smooth as brandy but stout like an old hickory tree. “Yes it’s good to put a face with the prose” replied Frank. They share a laugh. Frank was not let down. His imagination couldn’t have drawn Francis’ jawline if it had tried. Both of them were equally physical attractive and neither felt like running for the door. There existed a magnetic attraction between the two men. One that was not simply a desire of the flesh, but a sympatico of mental, emotional and physical selves.  They developed a smooth communication with each other over the next couple of coffees and scones that usually took ages to acquire. Yet what they each enjoyed more were the shared silences. When talk of politics or the new hip media trend had run out and they were simply left with the space in between one another. It was then that Frank noticed that Francis’ eyes had flecks of green in them, and that Francis came to know that if the light hit Frank’s eyes just in the right way the brown flecked a smooth honey and chocolate color. They reveled in the shear discoveries of their silences. Francis: Would you like to come to my place for dinner. Frank: I’d love to. Francis: Great, we can go shopping at this grocery store that’s right by my house. Frank: Any time spent with you would be great. The two sat at the table and fell into the other’s eyes,  so aware of the other that it seemed they were in the very fibers of one another. They never lost that. In the 20 years that they spent as partners they were just as keenly aware of each other as they were that bright day at the Starbucks. For them, Happily Ever After became their reality.