Proximity

Am I the only avi who has been startled by the physical needs of my avi? No, I'm not talking about pr0n (that's a whole different post and one I am hardly qualified to attend to). I'm talking about how much I want my avi to be able to reach out and spontaneously touch another ... and in the absence of that ability, how she will stand as close as possible to a favoured avi, almost of her own volition. It makes me smile when she does that.

I used to play chess with Y, in the early days. I am very bad at chess, I am a for-the-now-kinda gal and lack the ability to strategise. So when we played, I would keep my cam centered over the board, watching the chat and the game and not one bit that cute boi I was crushing so badly on. Is it not fascinating that my adoration for the boy came from his words, which I watched for breathlessly ... but that watching his SL projection of himself was too distracting? At the end of the game, I would look up to find him standing right beside me, within breathing range, and the "rush" would invariably startle me.

Friends we knew who were falling for each other were doing the same thing, every time I saw them they were right up next to each other. I find it interesting that even in a cartoon environment, we all maintain an appropriate personal space. In a normal group setting, you will notice that avis often keep a similar distance apart, and when you see two avis up close and personal (unless one of them is a noob) you can be sure there's "something going on".

After Y and I let down our guards a little, and the World Cheeseball Tour was completed, there was, of course, dancing. I had avoided dancing for the same reason. To me, the proximity of those lovely Bits & Bobs dances offered up something I responded to... so dancing with anyone but Y seemed to be offering more than I intended. Number three and number seven were "our" dances, and I have still never danced them with anyone else.

Since those first heady days, of course, my work at Ellie's has loosened my reserve about dancing with avis other than my significant other. Not that dancing with patrons is a requirement of the job, but I am often so hyped when I come offstage that I need something for my avi to do, and couples dances do help with that. Again, it startles me how many physical yearnings chry has. Sometimes she just wants to turn cartwheels, or jump on the couch. Or reach out and stroke the cheek of someone she has come to care for ....

Introducing Remy*

And so, it seems, I am dating someone. There was a long long period of grieving, during which I sensed some hovering at my peripheries, which I ignored, of course, because I was never going there again. And .. maybe ... a little ... because I was waiting for The Boy Who Left to come back.

There was a lot of hanging around in my sky palace, only coming out to work and concentrating on building. But the ultimate purpose of Second Life is interaction, and I had friends tapping on my windows and knocking on my doors to get me to come out.

As established, I have always made my Second Life busy, to avoid the notion that I was waiting for someone who wasn't coming back. I saved landmarks, thinking that one day we would go explore them together. Whole sims have disappeared in that time, places I never got to see. During that time, a friend left a noob in my care. Perfect traveling companion, wide-eyed with wonder, and that was me, too, since I'd neglected to actually go anywhere for so long.

Remember that minute ... the one where you realise those words "[insert favoured avi's name here] is online" are the sight that gladdens your Second Life? Well, I had one of those, and it threw me for a while. What about The Boy Who Left? What about Never Going There Again? Am I that fickle? I have issues with the Toy Husband crowd, was I about to become one?

And if that weren't enough, the other contenders must have sensed something in the air, because I was suddenly sorted for suitors >.<. The next phase was an ugly one, involving missteps, lack of confidence in my own judgement, and a last small cry from the heart to The Boy Who Left ... which, it turns out, was me flailing my cartoon hand one last half-hearted time, because once I'd sent it I suddenly felt free to choose a new direction.

Some avis got hurt during the writing of this column, and the fallout continues. For that I am immensely sorry, though I'm told my apologies are superfluous. I do not, it seems, always come out smelling like a rose.

But I have gained a treasured companion, and a vast sense of joy, even wonder at the possibilities our little grid offers those who approach with a sense of adventure. I am happy, and I'm rather in favour of happy.

*Names have been withheld out of respect for avis who do not blog and do not necessarily know they're being blogged about.