Her

It all started on that foggy day; the day I talked to her. She was there, sitting on the fake grass, her face moist with condensation and tears. I sat down next to her, asking if she was okay; if she wanted to talk about it. She politely declined my offer and walked away; tears and mist running together on her face.

Later that same day, I recieved a message from her. A solitary line across the usually dark screen of my phone. A line that read “Thank you”.

Little did I know that this was just one of the hundreds of messages we would exchange with each other. I soon found myself later that night, exchanging cheesy pick-up lines with a girl whom I had just started talking to this afternoon. Messages were sent and received and by the time we were saying our farewells, it was 2:00 in the morning. Before I went to bed that night I started feeling something that I hadn’t felt in a long time; happiness.

Days, turned into weeks and soon into months and she became a part of my life. I made promises to her, sent her “Good Morning” and “Good Night” texts, brought her food and coffee when she felt down, became her shoulder to cry on and stress reliever. Soon those “Good Morning” and “Good Night” texts became something more than just pixels across a screen. And she became more than just a person to me.

Later that summer, I embarked on a trip to a place halfway around the world; a third world country that I would call home for the next month. But I promised her, that I will continue to message her everyday even if I was gone. Everyday, I would wake up early to buy cell phone data from a little shack down the street, just so I could tell her “Good Morning” and repeat the same action later on in the night to tell her “Good Night”.

She filled the gaping hole that existed within my chest, lightened up my days with her smile, left me lost within her eyes, made me smile with her personality and giddy with her presence. She was perfect, even if she thought she wasn’t.

And then I lost her.

I came home, after a month of being separated from her. From not seeing her. From not being with her. I hoped to see her again, to hold her in my arms. But I did not find such hopes.

Instead I found the spark that we shared between us, slowly dying.

Our conversations soon became less and less frequent. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t keep the spark going. The goodnight kisses she sent after each “Good Night” started to disappear. Soon there were no more “Good Nights”. No more “Good Mornings”.

Slowly, the hole in my chest started to appear again. My days started to dim. And the feeling of happiness I once felt in my chest disappeared.

Just like her.