A love story

By Haydon Grigg

I didn’t want to come back on after what happened to her, but I felt something pulling me toward that website. I guess I gave in to my conscience and logged in, feeling cold as I did so.

I saw the tons of messages and notifications, probably giving their condolences or just asking where I had been.

Going through my personal feed, viewing all the statuses I posted, and looking back upon the pictures we took together, bringing back the memories of when we went to the beach and of when I met her parents, I began to feel sick. But I kept going.

I saw that one of the statuses had a tag of her name. Something told me to click on it. And so I did.
I saw her profile and a picture of her with me; it hurt badly. I didn’t think it would, but it did, as I cane across all of her friends posting on her wall saying goodbye like she was still here.

I wish she was.

I scrolled down her profile, looking at everything. I wanted to stop and I was just about to when I heard the sound of a message sent to me. I guessed it was just a friend saying hfelt demanding to know where I had been. I wished it was just a friend, but it wasn’t. The message was from her.
I thought it was some sick joke from someone that hacked into her account, so as much as it hurt I got curious and played along. Something felt wIt had been too long since I was here the last time.

I didn’tarmer the more I typed. It was like talking to her all over again, with all the memories of our long nighttime conversations about the most haphazard of things.

The smallest part of me felt like it was her. Yet it couldn’t be because I knew the reason. Despite this, I kept going as if something was keeping my eyes glued to my screen and my hands to the keyboard.
The feeling brought me to tears and my hands just kept typing without thinking; I cannot convey half of how much I missed her and how much I desired the feeling of her against me on those late nights we had.

Presently she sent something back, making it seem like it was actually her. I had to keep telling myself that it wasn’t, but it was getting harder; I had no choice but to ask the one thing that only we knew, between the two of us. She replied. And she hit the nail right on its head.
It cannot be. She was gone and here she was talking to me like nothing was wrong. I wanted to know how, but I was afraid of what she was going to say. I tried to avoid the whole idea of why she was still here.

I just kept telling her about how much I wanted to be together with her, to hold her again. In response, she said things the only the way that she could.
I could feel tears falling onto my hands as I typed, and the desire to know answers became stronger.

I couldn’t help but ask her another question. I saw that that she read it, but didn’t reply. I broke down thinking that she was gone, but I looked up to see her typing. And the feeling of a warm hand touching my shoulder flowed through me.

She said she never left; she said that she would never leave me, that she just couldn’t find a way to get to me. She told me that she had almost lost all hope and was about to give up. She said, “You came back, but you took too long. I do not have time left. I’m sorry, I have to leave you.You know I will always love you.”

I felt the warm hand go away and I knew that she left, that I was meant to feel sad but I felt happy, like a sense of relief.

I knew she was still out there somewhere.

I looked back on the chat to see I