Cold

FROM: aeoml@nobot.com

TO: lynned@nobot.com

Dear Lynne,

We have been communicating for some time now, and I have a question to ask you. 30 years ago, we used to date. I didn’t notice it at the time, but now I sense that you were a little cold. And, after several months of dating me, you disappeared.

I got over it and married a wonderful woman, and I have a great family and a job I love. But I’m curious and just want to know one thing. Why did you leave?

Adam

****************

19-year-old Lynne sat on a folding chair, rubbing her right hand down her left arm, imagining that a man, any man, was petting her. But it didn’t make her feel any less lonely. It just fanned her incipient sexual desires all the more.

A cold gust of New York State wind rattled the window pane, and she shivered. “A man, a man, a man,” she thought. “Please, God, send me a good man.”

Lynne sat with about 20 other young adults in the living room of an old New York farmhouse. “Maybe Adam is the man I need,” she thought. 19-year-old Adam, the man sitting next to her, had brought her to the retreat. His kisses frightened her, but Lynne had to admit that he was incredibly smart and funny.

As the cold wind continued to rage outside, the weekend retreat began. “First, we’re going to play Sardines,” the retreat director said. “I’m going to pull the master fuse for the lights. I’ll hide somewhere and, after a few minutes, the rest of you will try to find me.”

“If we can’t see you or hear you,” someone asked, “how will we find you?”

“Use your sense of touch, dummy,” someone else said.

“This isn’t Hide and Seek,” the master continued. “Nobody is allowed to say a word. And, when you find me, you don’t call out. You just quietly join me, which means that everybody has to find me on their own. The game ends when everybody has found me and joined me.” He walked out of the room.

Everyone stood up. “Take me home, Adam,” Lynne said. “I can’t play this game.”

The lights went out. An almost audible pain stabbed through Lynne’s heart.

“Why not?” Adam asked.

“I just can’t. If I’d known they’d play this game, I’d never have let you bring me here.”

“But why not?”

Lynne, too proud to tell Adam that she was afraid of the dark, gave up and began to play. She groped along cold walls and bumped into hard furniture. She sensed silent forms moving past her, yet she saw nothing. She entered rooms but was afraid to feel around for the director, afraid of what her hands might touch in the dark. She searched and searched.

“God, just let me die!” she prayed. Fighting back tears, she moved into still another room.

“Psst!” someone said. Lynne stopped and listened.

“Psst! Lynne!” It was Adam’s whisper. He reached out for her from under the bed. Lynne crouched down onto the floor and crawled into his arms, safe at last.

His body was so warm! This was a joy she had never felt before. Not just the physical warmth but the closeness. Her father had never once held her; Adam showed her what total protection felt like. Her mother had not hugged her since she was five; Adam showed her what unconditional affection felt like.

Rather than laugh and play, Lynne had spent her childhood caring for her younger siblings. As the rest of the family watched TV, she had struggled to complete her homework in time to get the sleep she needed. Because she had rarely been consoled or comforted, she felt herself unworthy of consolation or comfort. Because she had lived alone, essentially, since she was five, she distrusted any other lifestyle.

But, as Adam held her in the darkness, happiness spread all through her. She was safe now. Adam would take care of her. She would never have to overcome her shyness and learn to talk to strangers; Adam would be her buffer. She would never have to explore scary new places; Adam would take her wherever she needed to go. She would never be lonely; Adam would always be with her.

Adam would support any project she wanted to undertake. He would give her the consolation she had never gotten as a child. He would always be available to advise her. She wouldn’t have to find a strong identity and sense of purpose; she could depend on Adam’s.

Depend? Or become dependent? Lynne was not yet aware that bipolar disorder, unipolar depression, PTSD, and Tourette’s Syndrome were slowing her psychic growth, but now she began to sense that something was wrong. There was danger in Adam’s warm arms, serious danger. She was still a frightened child, not a woman capable of love. She knew only half of love: giving, but not receiving; crying but not laughing; commitment but not affection; loyalty but not trust; danger but not rewards.

She jumped away from Adam. He asked her what was wrong, but she couldn’t explain. She just knew that there was absolutely, definitely, something wrong. She decided to leave him. She moved away and never saw him again.

Also, she never felt quite as warm again.

***************

FROM: lynned@nobot.com

TO: aeoml@nobot.com

Dear Adam,

I had to follow my music.

Lynne

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