AOL chat rooms, and Yahoo ones, had been the sole reason to live when I first discovered them in 1999. I was 15 and had never so much as had a computer for personal use, this was my first one. I was amazed by this new world that had opened up before me, and with it the freedom of finally being able to be myself without fear of face to face rejection.
I went to school from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., rushed home and hopped online from 3:20 p.m. until 6 a.m. Non-stop. I do not joke. I showered, slept an hour and headed to school to do it all over again. I remember almost every person I chatted with that meant something to me. You see I actually WAS that naive little girl that thought everything typed in chat or in a PM box was true. I believed every word everyone told me, and that they only had their best intentions towards me. I was 15. I was jail-bait.
I used to get soooo attached, quickly, just because someone said some kind words to the fattie (me) and offered tenderness described in between asterisks. *hugs* Yeah, I was amazed at how much a simple "e-action" could convey to a loner like me. Everything was great. I used to talk to an Erik from California, two Ryans from Ohio and Pennsylvania, David from Greece, Brian from NY, etc etc etc. Always the same crew in the same chat rooms. The regs. I opened up completely to them, offering my friendship along with pure unadulterated trust. Blind trust. Fool's trust.
Suddenly I began to see a side to them that confused me. Their affections got more and more self-imposing and possessive. They started flirting heavily after a few weeks and almost insinuating things that at that age I had NO idea how to even get involved in. I'm serious. I was THAT girl. I never skipped school, always got straight A's, never lied (seriously, never), I didn't try pot until I was 19, never drank...I was a freakin' saint. Always good little Yari, obedient to mom and dad and such. Naturally, when they realized this was actually a good little virgin they were talking to and not some little slut pretending to be coy...I became the ultimate trophy.
Needless to say, I felt nauseous that the people I once considered close friends turned out to be wolves in sheep's clothing. Erik even turned out to be 49, instead of the age he said blah blah it was just disgusting. I didn't understand how men could behave this way. I didn't understand how WOMEN could behave in a way that they relished in flirting with everything that moved in the room and then declare themselves victims at being treated like pieces of meat. Honey, you were looking for it and thanks for making it a hunting ground where quiet people like me that went to relax ended up being e-flashed more times than I care to remember.
So I abandoned Yahoo for a while and stuck to AOL, where they 'sane' people used to hang out. The local chatrooms. I decided to join a Northeastern US Music Chat. People from Pennsylvania, Ohio, NY, MA and NJ mostly gathered to discuss guitar playing, they played on mic, we bashed each other, we loved each other and we were pretty tight knit. None of that e-leg humping crap, just straight up people shootin' the shit discussing their favorite hobby. PM's were always safe, and usually involved either meeting someone close to me in PA for a jam session (and they were, actually, awesome) or safe convos about guitars or musicians.
When (screename witheld) sent me a private message one night, I expected nothing more than a guitar chat and a new friend. His name was Ronnie. He was 21 years old. He was recently divorced with twin daughters that were 3 years old, Hannah and Kelsey. He lived in California. His father owned a large and successful construction company, where he worked and made 'good money'. He never boasted, but he always dropped hints that he wasn't hurting financially. Specially listing his 'gear' to me, which included several guitars that were over $4k each, equally luxurious amps...yeah. We spoke of music, but he seemed a sad fellow who was holding a lot back. He kept repeating how nice I was and that he'd never met a girl who could play Metallica as well as me. He mentioned battling depression briefly, and we both were so consumed talking to each other that we didn't notice the chatroom die away and the clock flying away with our time. That night I didn't sleep at all, and simply showered and caught the bus to school, feeling this void that I couldn't talk to Ronnie until night time.
Weeks passed by and turned into months of almost 24 hour Ronnie company. We never did anything but relish our company, talk of hobbies, talk about his problems, he'd ask me to play my guitar so he could fall asleep. He made me feel like he needed my company, like he needed -me- above all. Eventually phone numbers were exchanged, and the daily calls overtook everything I ever did. He's all I ever spoke about to my friends and parents, I sent packages with gifts for his daughters and the plans began. It was several months later that he whispered "I love you" right before hanging up one night, which only cemented what I already felt for him but had never spoken out loud.
This is where it gets great, wonderful and traumatic. We started planning a life together, giving him my deepest secrets and promises and, at 15 yrs old, giving this man more than anyone ever knew about me. I don't need to go into further detail but you all can take that as you may. I was going to run away from home at the end of the school following school year, when I was 16 and we'd move to Germany where some relatives of his lived (oh stupid stupid Yari). At the same time our 'love' blossomed, his personal life was crumbling. His behavior was increasinly erratic, he had this absolutely unbelievable streak of bad luck and endless rants about committing suicide. Here I was, on the other side of the US, crying hysterically and begging him to not give up, that it would get better. I'd get calls during the week from him saying he had an accident or his house got burglarized. Soon his 'sister' came into the equation, though I never spoke to her on the phone or heard her voice in the background. I did, however, get PM's from her and emails from her saying how Ronnie was getting worse and how I should leave him alone because he was unstable...ha!
One day my parents figured it all out, and as soon as I turned 16 they shipped me off to Puerto Rico for the summer to see if I'd get my head out of my ass. He still called me non stop since I had no computer near by, but things were very rocky. Until the day came when it had been 2 weeks since I had last heard anything from him. I ran to a neighbor's house out of sheer paranoia and checked my emails, to find an email from his 'sister' saying that Ronnie had been in a car accident that left him brain dead. They were going to unplug him in a few days and she was asking me if I wanted to know where to send the flowers. I stumbled away from the screen and don't really remember how I got home. I must've been in bad shape because my aunt called my mom and I just heard her screaming at me to snap out of it from the phone that seemed so far away. My parents said they knew about this but had decided not to tell me because we had been nothing, and that it wasn't good for me to be this upset over 'something silly and someone I had never met'.
But he was real to me, he was everything and now he was gone. I didn't eat for days and can't really remember much but crying on my friend's lap while she looked at me with something in her eyes that was an unknown pity. Like she wasn't saying something. I asked her what was wrong and she simply said "You're so young, I hope this isn't in vain." I felt enraged that she, one of my best friends, did not believe my love was real. Alas, that fool's trust didn't prepare me for the next Ronnie chapter. About 2 months later, I received an email from the dead man himself saying that it had all been a joke. His 'sister' just wanted to see if I had really 'loved him' and had taken the opportunity that he was away on business to make it seem like all that had happened...and I woke up.
Hell hath no fury like a 16 yr old who has been betrayed and broken to the ultimate level by her first love. I didn't answer the email. Instead I inmersed myself into finding out what else he had lied about. Ronnie's real name was Dean. He made the mistake of giving me his real last name and date of birth, to which I did verify his address and that he was married with 3 children. The pictures he had sent me had been of his youngest son who was 21. The girls? His grandaughters. He was 42. He had been married to his wife for a long time according to public records. He's an EMT and now, a pedophile thanks to yours truly. Oh I went there. He had no business screwing a 15 yr old over like he did.
After that I left the chatrooms for years, I never trusted anyone again nor loved that purely. I recently returned to chatrooms only to find the snakepit now knows nothing good...what else was expected? I learned my lesson at 16. I re-learned it in my 20's. But it really doesn't matter what or when I learned it...but that it finally sunk in and I've sealed myself shut in self-preservation.
I don't know why I named this post as Part 1, when I've said all I needed to. I let it out, I carry no further secrets. Most of you knew of Ronnie, but I don't think you knew to what extent. Maybe something else will come to mind that needs to find it's way out into the atmosphere. For now I leave you with this: Open your eyes. Even though nobody will learn a lesson from someone else's mistakes, I wish you don't go through what I did at that age ever. It's never too late to demand the truth. Never, absolutely NEVER, be shocked to find out that there is so little love, compassion and humanity left out there. Don't settle for anything but those 3 qualities, there are no excuses for anything else.
I'm tired. Bed at 10:00 p.m.
I went to school from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., rushed home and hopped online from 3:20 p.m. until 6 a.m. Non-stop. I do not joke. I showered, slept an hour and headed to school to do it all over again. I remember almost every person I chatted with that meant something to me. You see I actually WAS that naive little girl that thought everything typed in chat or in a PM box was true. I believed every word everyone told me, and that they only had their best intentions towards me. I was 15. I was jail-bait.
I used to get soooo attached, quickly, just because someone said some kind words to the fattie (me) and offered tenderness described in between asterisks. *hugs* Yeah, I was amazed at how much a simple "e-action" could convey to a loner like me. Everything was great. I used to talk to an Erik from California, two Ryans from Ohio and Pennsylvania, David from Greece, Brian from NY, etc etc etc. Always the same crew in the same chat rooms. The regs. I opened up completely to them, offering my friendship along with pure unadulterated trust. Blind trust. Fool's trust.
Suddenly I began to see a side to them that confused me. Their affections got more and more self-imposing and possessive. They started flirting heavily after a few weeks and almost insinuating things that at that age I had NO idea how to even get involved in. I'm serious. I was THAT girl. I never skipped school, always got straight A's, never lied (seriously, never), I didn't try pot until I was 19, never drank...I was a freakin' saint. Always good little Yari, obedient to mom and dad and such. Naturally, when they realized this was actually a good little virgin they were talking to and not some little slut pretending to be coy...I became the ultimate trophy.
Needless to say, I felt nauseous that the people I once considered close friends turned out to be wolves in sheep's clothing. Erik even turned out to be 49, instead of the age he said blah blah it was just disgusting. I didn't understand how men could behave this way. I didn't understand how WOMEN could behave in a way that they relished in flirting with everything that moved in the room and then declare themselves victims at being treated like pieces of meat. Honey, you were looking for it and thanks for making it a hunting ground where quiet people like me that went to relax ended up being e-flashed more times than I care to remember.
So I abandoned Yahoo for a while and stuck to AOL, where they 'sane' people used to hang out. The local chatrooms. I decided to join a Northeastern US Music Chat. People from Pennsylvania, Ohio, NY, MA and NJ mostly gathered to discuss guitar playing, they played on mic, we bashed each other, we loved each other and we were pretty tight knit. None of that e-leg humping crap, just straight up people shootin' the shit discussing their favorite hobby. PM's were always safe, and usually involved either meeting someone close to me in PA for a jam session (and they were, actually, awesome) or safe convos about guitars or musicians.
When (screename witheld) sent me a private message one night, I expected nothing more than a guitar chat and a new friend. His name was Ronnie. He was 21 years old. He was recently divorced with twin daughters that were 3 years old, Hannah and Kelsey. He lived in California. His father owned a large and successful construction company, where he worked and made 'good money'. He never boasted, but he always dropped hints that he wasn't hurting financially. Specially listing his 'gear' to me, which included several guitars that were over $4k each, equally luxurious amps...yeah. We spoke of music, but he seemed a sad fellow who was holding a lot back. He kept repeating how nice I was and that he'd never met a girl who could play Metallica as well as me. He mentioned battling depression briefly, and we both were so consumed talking to each other that we didn't notice the chatroom die away and the clock flying away with our time. That night I didn't sleep at all, and simply showered and caught the bus to school, feeling this void that I couldn't talk to Ronnie until night time.
Weeks passed by and turned into months of almost 24 hour Ronnie company. We never did anything but relish our company, talk of hobbies, talk about his problems, he'd ask me to play my guitar so he could fall asleep. He made me feel like he needed my company, like he needed -me- above all. Eventually phone numbers were exchanged, and the daily calls overtook everything I ever did. He's all I ever spoke about to my friends and parents, I sent packages with gifts for his daughters and the plans began. It was several months later that he whispered "I love you" right before hanging up one night, which only cemented what I already felt for him but had never spoken out loud.
This is where it gets great, wonderful and traumatic. We started planning a life together, giving him my deepest secrets and promises and, at 15 yrs old, giving this man more than anyone ever knew about me. I don't need to go into further detail but you all can take that as you may. I was going to run away from home at the end of the school following school year, when I was 16 and we'd move to Germany where some relatives of his lived (oh stupid stupid Yari). At the same time our 'love' blossomed, his personal life was crumbling. His behavior was increasinly erratic, he had this absolutely unbelievable streak of bad luck and endless rants about committing suicide. Here I was, on the other side of the US, crying hysterically and begging him to not give up, that it would get better. I'd get calls during the week from him saying he had an accident or his house got burglarized. Soon his 'sister' came into the equation, though I never spoke to her on the phone or heard her voice in the background. I did, however, get PM's from her and emails from her saying how Ronnie was getting worse and how I should leave him alone because he was unstable...ha!
One day my parents figured it all out, and as soon as I turned 16 they shipped me off to Puerto Rico for the summer to see if I'd get my head out of my ass. He still called me non stop since I had no computer near by, but things were very rocky. Until the day came when it had been 2 weeks since I had last heard anything from him. I ran to a neighbor's house out of sheer paranoia and checked my emails, to find an email from his 'sister' saying that Ronnie had been in a car accident that left him brain dead. They were going to unplug him in a few days and she was asking me if I wanted to know where to send the flowers. I stumbled away from the screen and don't really remember how I got home. I must've been in bad shape because my aunt called my mom and I just heard her screaming at me to snap out of it from the phone that seemed so far away. My parents said they knew about this but had decided not to tell me because we had been nothing, and that it wasn't good for me to be this upset over 'something silly and someone I had never met'.
But he was real to me, he was everything and now he was gone. I didn't eat for days and can't really remember much but crying on my friend's lap while she looked at me with something in her eyes that was an unknown pity. Like she wasn't saying something. I asked her what was wrong and she simply said "You're so young, I hope this isn't in vain." I felt enraged that she, one of my best friends, did not believe my love was real. Alas, that fool's trust didn't prepare me for the next Ronnie chapter. About 2 months later, I received an email from the dead man himself saying that it had all been a joke. His 'sister' just wanted to see if I had really 'loved him' and had taken the opportunity that he was away on business to make it seem like all that had happened...and I woke up.
Hell hath no fury like a 16 yr old who has been betrayed and broken to the ultimate level by her first love. I didn't answer the email. Instead I inmersed myself into finding out what else he had lied about. Ronnie's real name was Dean. He made the mistake of giving me his real last name and date of birth, to which I did verify his address and that he was married with 3 children. The pictures he had sent me had been of his youngest son who was 21. The girls? His grandaughters. He was 42. He had been married to his wife for a long time according to public records. He's an EMT and now, a pedophile thanks to yours truly. Oh I went there. He had no business screwing a 15 yr old over like he did.
After that I left the chatrooms for years, I never trusted anyone again nor loved that purely. I recently returned to chatrooms only to find the snakepit now knows nothing good...what else was expected? I learned my lesson at 16. I re-learned it in my 20's. But it really doesn't matter what or when I learned it...but that it finally sunk in and I've sealed myself shut in self-preservation.
I don't know why I named this post as Part 1, when I've said all I needed to. I let it out, I carry no further secrets. Most of you knew of Ronnie, but I don't think you knew to what extent. Maybe something else will come to mind that needs to find it's way out into the atmosphere. For now I leave you with this: Open your eyes. Even though nobody will learn a lesson from someone else's mistakes, I wish you don't go through what I did at that age ever. It's never too late to demand the truth. Never, absolutely NEVER, be shocked to find out that there is so little love, compassion and humanity left out there. Don't settle for anything but those 3 qualities, there are no excuses for anything else.
I'm tired. Bed at 10:00 p.m.
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