All I have to do is to enact the scenario in my head. Imagine. Over and over again. Visualise her. Practice every move. Sit next to her. Wrap my arms around. Cuddle her.  This is one opportunity I can't afford to let go waste. Botching it up would mean several more months of saving up for another license, then the waiting, and yeah, the ignominy. All because my eyes and I have one common problem - what is close is never clear.

The eyes, I can understand. But I? I have no excuse to offer for my chronic failure to have a steady relationship. I usually don't get past the first date. Or at best, a second date if the girl is forgiving. Why? I am too proud for my own good. I refused when the pantheon found the anomaly in my eyes and offered me glasses. Like Tom Sawyer, I stood up and asked for more. I wanted lenses. And, here I am. Yes! I've read Tom Sawyer. Books aren't prohibited here. In fact, nothing is. Sorry, I am digressing.

The rationale behind my demand? Glasses wouldn't fit within my Meshgear. How stupid? Deep down, I didn't want to be called four-eyes. Or six-eyes. We are all four-eyes here.

And so, every time I hooked up with someone on the mesh, I would invariably see nothing more than a blur. And you know what happens, where appears the shoulder, there is... Forget it. And what does that mean? Disaster. The proverbial last nail.

The kinder ones tell me they can't live with a bungling idiot.  They at least recognise I am not  lusting around. Anyway, long story short, I had to get some practice. How? Simple. Get a license and experience living. A license for some time with a girl, a real girl to simulate a date with.

....

Here I am. So long as I get to have a ball once I am back in the mesh, it is money well spent. Oh! and by the way, real people don't get to bail out. The license covers it in case you are wondering. No limits, no timeouts. 

There she is! boy! Isn't she gorgeous? Why don't we have anyone like her in The Mesh? Come on! I need to get real.

"Hi!"

"Hi. You can get started."

"Look. Don't make this a chore. I see you just as I would see anyone on the mesh! "

"Oh! That's sweet. No one has ever said this to me before. I am just a license."

"No,  you aren't sweetheart! You know what you are? Beautiful!"

"Why! Thank you. Passing the knife, no? I'd like us to start with a slice of cake."

"Sure. Here! Let me cut it... Please! I insist... Thank you!"

Oh my! What have I done? What's that? Blood? God! I cut her wrist. She is beating about. She's dying. Not again! Yet another license gone begging. Poor thing. It will be months before I can afford another one.

If only I had taken the glasses.