Tonight I commented on a thread over at Agent Query. A few minutes later, my cell phone chinked, indicating a new email. I knew without checking who it would be. And I was right. I’d received a PM from a dear friend of mine based on my comment.
There, I admitted it. I don’t live in the real world. I talk to my cyber friends as if they were right here with me. We joke, laugh, poke fun at our foibles and support each other during some pretty rough times.
I adore my writing friends, and since I don’t know many writers personally, my fellow scribes live mainly in my mind and on the internet. And yet I care about them in the same way I care about my real life friends.
I’m quite certain my DH thinks I’m mad and I keep peeking over my shoulder so he doesn’t slip on my little white coat. After all, it’s probably not normal to talk about people who I’ve never met as if we just left the bar together two hours ago.
My kids probably think I’m the biggest hypocrite alive.
“Don’t ever talk to people you don’t know online.” Oh yes, I’ve said this more than a hundred times.
And yet, here I am, sharing life and passion with complete strangers whom I call friends. Heck, I’ve prayed for them, danced the happy dance for them and gotten my feathers ruffled when I felt an injustice had been done to one of them.
Is this wrong? Can you truly be friends with someone you have never met? Will likely never meet? If no, why not?