I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

Everybody knows there's a certain cadence or rhythm to chatting with someone online. It's not like an e-mail where you have all the time in the world to write and rewrite everything to your satisfaction. It's not like a phone conversation where you can subtly pick up on whether someone is about to say something (which I suck at anyway.) It's nothing like a face-to-face conversation in which you can read facial expressions and body language to decipher yours and their next move.

Sometimes, during an online convo, you are privy to the additional things these other people might be doing - watching TV, playing a game, working on a document, talking on the phone, making dinner, surfing around, etc. Sometimes. . .you are not. But, either way, you begin to see a pattern in their responses. You notice the time between your question and their answer. You can figure out whether you are the initiator or the responder. Or, if you're lucky enough, you've both struck a complementary balance.

So, sometimes it's odd to me when the cadence is broken. Extra time goes by. I wonder. . .are we done? There was no proper goodbye. But, so often, there was not much of a proper hello to begin with so. . .how does this work? Did we expound on the topic as much as we could, is the issue exhausted? Did I say something offensive? Did they get murdered? Are they now being hauled away from their computer, knife to their jugular while I'm sitting here worrying about whether it's something I did?

Maybe they had a heart attack. Or an aneurysm. Or, possibly they've plugged too many electronics into their wall outlet and what started out as small sparks have now become an all-engulfing and inescapable flash fire. Should I call?

Or. . .maybe something really good is on tv. Or maybe they got called away to do something more important. Like change a diaper or kiss a boo-boo or help with dishes. Maybe they just forgot. Maybe it doesn't really matter.

Maybe I've done the same. Sorry.