Okay, so I’m joining the society of bloggers because people are asking me how I am, to which the expected answer “fine” or “great” and “how are you?” just isn’t true for me right now, and the true answer is kind of a long story to tell, especially if you get asked about it several times. So I decided to tell the story here.
The true answer is I am very sad right now, and very confused. The reason is that someone I love very much, a lady named Ivy, seems to have decided to disappear from Second Life, and she’s done so in a way that leaves me totally clueless as to her reasons and her plans.
I met Ivy in October 2006, on her very first day in Second Life. I was hanging out at the Shelter when she came in with a friend she had just met who was also on her first foray into that new world. I myself was a seasoned SL veteran at that point, with all of 9 days experience. So while these two ladies were rummaging around the freebie table at the Shelter, I was sitting in one of the comfy chairs watching them having a blast with all the cool things they found and with their happy companionship.
At some point they both decided they needed to find a ball gown. I was able to help them out there, because I had just learned myself how to move your camera around using the alt and ctrl keys, zoom in to objects etc. So I showed them how it’s done, which made it much easier for them to find what they were looking for. And sure enough, a few minutes later they each had acquired a beautiful long dress, which prompted me to don the spiffy new tux I had found just the day before. And that led to my first dance and IM chat with Ivy. We exchanged some basic information about our work and our personal circumstances. I liked her, and I had the feeling it was mutual. It’s not as if anything spectacular happened that day, but I won’t forget it.
We ran into each other a few times over the next few weeks. Then came a day that is really etched in my memory. I tp’d her in to show her the piece of land I had just bought and the house I had set on it. From there, we went on a little turn on my sailboat.
I can still see it. Ivy and I sailing under a starry sky … she enjoyed it so much, which gave me a lot of joy in return. And our conversation … she was so warm and open, showing so much personal interest and so much intelligence and perception. And of course I was totally smitten with her new looks … it was the first time I saw her after she had shed her newbie appearance. Looking back, I think that was the day I fell in love with her, although I didn’t want to admit it to myself then.
There came a difficult time for me after that. Various circumstances led to me spending way too much time in SL, which after a time started to affect my income (I’m a freelancer). Shortly before Christmas, I decided I must pull the plug for a while to break free of that cycle. I had no idea at that point whether I would be back at all, and if so, how long it would take.
So I started to write goodbye notes to the people I considered my closest friends in SL. A painful task in every single case. I was surprised how important these people who I had only ever met in that virtual world had become to me. But what overwhelmed me most was the feeling of loss that swept over me when I wrote my goodbye note to Ivy. I hadn’t anticipated that. We hadn’t spent that much time together yet, after all. But as I sat there writing those notes, it became obvious to me that leaving Ivy was my biggest regret.
It didn’t take very long for me to return to SL after all. Some of the circumstances that had led to my unhealthy behaviour changed, and I found that I could return without danger after a week or two. After that, we had some wonderful times together, Ivy and I. We explored some of the most beautiful and interesting places in SL, we danced at some of the most romantic spots, we experienced some of the most exciting events, and I felt we had a wonderful connection whenever we chatted. More than once when I was stressed out or frustrated I had the feeling that talking to Ivy was what saved my sanity.
Some time in February I was traveling in Switzerland, returning to a different hotel every night after midnight from the events I was involved in. I had my laptop with me, but as the confounded thing hasn’t got enough graphics muscle to run SL, I had to use SLeek, a text-only tool that allows you to log on to SL and IM and chat, even if you can’t see anything. So I was sitting there, sometimes in the hotel lobby because the wlan reception in the room was poor, spending my last waking minutes talking to Ivy. We discovered we’re both lovers of all sorts of Mediterranean food during that time, as I described to her the luscious late-night meals that were part of my daily routine during the tour and she chided me for making her hungry. It was a comfortable, cozy, familiar feeling to come back to the loneliness of a hotel at night, knowing that she would be there, welcoming me.
One of the things I love most in Ivy is her enthusiasm. The excitement with which she greeted all my creative efforts in SL encouraged me no end, and whenever I gave her some small present, she received it with such delight that it warmed my heart. Her joy was infectious, and I wanted to be near her just to bask in its light.
Then the end of February came. Almost exactly two months ago now. We went dancing at the Blue Note. She told me about a new additional responsibility she was taking on at work, and that she would have to work very long hours. She was quite excited about it. But something else happened. Something clicked between us that night. She felt it too, I’m quite sure. For the first time, we danced closely together. Some magic happened. It was as if I could for a moment catch a glimpse of her inner soul and see that what I was feeling for her met with a response in kind there.
We saw each other again the next day. We both had just moved out of our places in SL and were looking for new ones, and the thought came up whether we might combine our resources and set up camp together somewhere. Yet she seemed restless and unsure while we were looking at some plots. I wish we’d had a chance to talk about that.
That chance we never got. Next thing I knew, she was gone. Just never showed up again. No explanation, not a word of goodbye, just poof. After I stormed her with IMs, she acknowledged she was missing me as much as I did her but she wasn’t sure whether she would ever be back. That was the last I heard from her for a long time.
I was devastated. One moment I had thought that an undreamed-of happiness had come to me, and the next it dissolved before my eyes and was gone beyond reach. Of course I could think of all sorts of reasons that might have led her to that decision, but I couldn’t understand why she didn’t just tell me what was behind it.
Still, I hoped, and I waited. I bought myself a water plot and a house boat and settled down. There was no chance of forgetting her anyway, so I made a nice frame for a beautiful picture I had once taken of her and put it up on my wall and set my home landing spot so that it would put me right in front of it. So I had my little moment of wistfulness whenever I came here, looking at her beautiful face, and I took to sending her little IM messages with song URLs from my web space. I knew her IMs were forwarded to her by email. After a while, I didn’t believe anymore that I would ever see her or hear from her again, but still I kept hoping and waiting. It wasn’t the way I would have chosen to live my SL, but it was a way to live.
Then one day after many weeks, middle of April, I said in one of my messages that I wondered whether she was still receiving them at all and if she enjoyed them or just was annoyed by them. And wonder of wonders, I heard back from her! Yes, she got them and she loved them, and she loved me for keeping her in my thoughts! As if that cost me any effort! Instantly I was up on cloud 9. I didn’t expect anything more to come of that, mind you, but just the prospect of keeping that little line of communication open between us made me happy. If I could have hoped to receive a few words like that from her from time to time, I would have settled for that.
I certainly didn’t expect what happened a week later when she came to me in the small hours of Saturday morning, April 21. My heart stopped when I saw her come online. I tp’d her to my boat, and the feelings she expressed toward me at that reunion were all that I could ever have hoped for and more. I was delirious with joy. We danced and we hugged and we kissed, and we happily stammered words of love and affection. I just know she understood all that I’m feeling for her when I showed her that picture on my wall. And I was absolutely sure then that she had similar feelings for me. Of course, looking back now I’m asking myself if perhaps I read her behavior all wrong. But I don’t really believe that. She wasn’t lying, and she wasn’t acting a part. After all, why should she?
She went to sleep and said she’d be back later. When she came, I was at the Shelter. I’ve been torturing myself since then with the thought whether things would have been different if I’d have gone to her immediately instead of trying to get her to come to me. She said she wanted to change her outfit, which took some time. Meanwhile, my dog got restless and wanted out, so I said I’d be back in a few minutes. “I’ll be here,” came her reply.
Well, she was gone when I came back, and those words “I’ll be here” were the last thing I heard from her for several days. I kept her posted as to when I was planning to be online, basically begging her for a reply. The only reply I got was a very short one – “I’m ok … hug” – a few days later when I told her I was worried about her, which I really was. The whole thing was so strange, so utterly inexplicable.
It still is. I’m still trying in vain to get any reaction out of her. I’ve been begging her, if I really have to swallow the bitter pill of losing her, to at least talk to me about it and give me a chance to find some closure. No response at all. It is so utterly unlike her. I feel like Orpheus, singing beautifully enough to soften the heart of Hades, but finding it impossible to penetrate her heart, even though I have come to know it as warm and full of love and grace.
My friends are telling me I need to move on. I see their point of course, but how can I move on? Even if the story I just told could not go on, which would break my heart, how could I ever move on without at least giving it a proper ending? It would be an utterly sad thing if this story had to end here. But the sadness would be inconsolable if it were to end just like that, with Ivy disappearing into thin air without any word of goodbye, without giving me a chance to understand. For then this story would be left unfinished, inevitably turning sour and bitter, and I would lose not just the future but even the beautiful things we had in the past.
So, if you’ve been asking me how I am, here’s your answer. And if there’s anything you can tell me to help me make sense of it all, please leave a comment.
Posted by Dylan 
Posted by Dylan 
Posted by Dylan 
