RB: You’re doing great so far!

JD: I never thought I would be happy to hear that from a stranger on the internet.

RB: Stranger? I thought I was your girlfriend. Are we going to have our first fight already?

JD: I just laughed out loud. You’re right.

JD: From henceforth, I shall call you my Very Real Girlfriend.

JD: VRG. How does that sound?

RB: Incredibly romantic. You certainly know how to woo a woman.

RB: When we meet, don’t even bother to call me by my real name.

JD: Speaking of real names, I assume we aren’t going to share ours until we meet in person?

RB: It’s what works best.

JD: Got it.

JD: How often are we allowed to communicate?

JD: Times when texting is off limits? I’m sure you have a life outside of this and your career.

RB: I work pretty heavy hours during the week, so my responses will be less frequent.

RB: Nights are my rare free time, so I’m available to talk.

RB: Be warned, however, I won’t drop everything I’m doing to answer you.

JD: God, I’d never ask you to.

RB: Phew. Glad that goes over well with you.

RB: We can put our first fight to rest for another day.

JD: Anything for you, VRG.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think talking like this would be fun. I blink, and midnight is rapidly approaching. I haven’t showered. My cheeks hurt from smiling. My run didn’t happen, and all I ate for dinner was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that didn’t have proportionate condiments because I was too busy reading RB’s messages to pay attention to the amount of peanut butter on the knife. The evening has slipped away from me, and my usual routine has been infiltrated and interrupted by this woman.

Weirdly enough, I don’t hate it.

We’ve been talking on and off for the better part of five hours, the conversation ebbing and flowing, teetering more toward flowing in the last 45 minutes. I had to plug my phone in earlier; the battery keeps draining rapidly at the consistency and frequency of the messages we’ve exchanged.

We’ve escalated from basic pleasantries to slowly asking more personal questions. What we wanted to be when we grew up. Favorite ice cream flavors. Which restaurant has the best crushed ice. Disappointment is not the sensation I expect to be conquered by when the ping of a new message comes through.

RB: I should probably get ready for bed.

RB: I didn’t realize it was so late.

JD: Sorry about that.

JD: I hope I didn’t break too many rules on my first day.

RB: Trust me, I’ll tell you if something is wrong.

RB: I’m just exhausted.

JD: Thank goodness. Made it past stage one!

JD: I hope you get some good sleep.