As the plane touched down at Heathrow, I was shaking with nerves, and hastily checked my make-up. It was October 2013, and I’d been waiting for months to see Steve, then 44, the man I loved. I’d pictured running into his arms and being pulled in tightly as he kissed me over and over again.
Only, while it might sound like a reunion, Steve and I had never actually met. That’s right – all of our many dates, exchanges of compliments and whispered sweet nothings, even the moment we first said ‘I love you’ had all been done virtually.
I’d been playing the online game Kingdoms of Camelot when I first came across Steve in January 2012. We were both keen gamers, but we chatted over the messenger facility, too, learning about each other’s lives as we discussed gameplay. He lived in Devon in the UK, while I was more than 5,000 miles away in Las Vegas – but, despite the distance between us, we became friends.
I had two sons, aged 15 and 11, and I learnt Steve had a four-yearold son. We were both married, but both experiencing difficulties within our relationships.
For a while, we lost contact, but in June 2013, Steve got back in touch. By now, both of our marriages had ended, and our relationship quickly became more than friends.
‘I want to get to know you,’ Steve wrote, and I couldn’t help feeling the same.
He was funny, good-looking and seemed like a family man.
Soon, we were constantly messaging each other and leaving romantic voice notes, working around the eighthour time difference. Every morning, I woke up at 5am, excited to speak to him before I started my job as a manager at a telecommunications company.
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