Okay...

A small window popped up, flashing, words written across the top line of a small white box in the center. An inside joke. I grinned and replied with my part of the joke. The conversation went on for a few minutes. Rememberances, promises to mention one another to a distant friend we might see tomorrow, mentions of the future, dreams, forgotten things.

Then silence.

No new words jumping onto the screen with some hidden mesage deep at the heart of them. Only silence. I stared at the screen, waiting. He must say something. He must. And quickly, or I will soon blurt out the news of old. Quickly now, say something. Why this strange emptiness between the wires? Say something!

And then they appeared. The words I so badly needed to keep myself in check. Yet the verylast ones that I wanted to read. I have to go. Goodbye. God Bless. No, I felt like screaming. I wanted to reach through the computer, melt away the distance in between and grab ahold of him before he could leave. Please, please don't go, I whispered. But that was foolish, he couldn't hear me, and I knew it.

The window says he has left. Slowly, I type the words. One letter at a time, almost afraid that he is looking over my shoulder watching my heart spill out onto the keys.

I love you. I'm sorry I have never said so. But I love you.

My pinky reaches over, taps the enter key lightly, sends the message through wires, underground over mountain, land, sea. Deep in the cool, dark forest, back out into the blazing heat of some strange land. In a matter of seconds they have reached him. But he is not there. He is not at the computer, and he can not see the words as the automatic message reminds me that he is signed off and was unable to recieve the message.

I sigh and leave the room. Forget why I was telling you this, forget why I said that to him. I close the door behind me, smile joyfully, because in the midst of all this I have found my happiness. And soon enough, I know, I will forget him as well. And the strange way my heart flutters when he comes into view. I may never forget him, the way he laughs, or the way his eyes look after he has cried, but I will soon enough forget the feeling in my stomach.

This too shall pass.

Ciao!
sarita