Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 92(@250wpm)___ 77(@300wpm)
The money I made off the program is enough that I never have to work again, so at least there’s that. Now I develop smaller, less dangerous software for everyday use. I wouldn’t call it a passion of mine, but it’s something to keep me busy. It’s something I can do alone and I’m good at it, but it won’t ever replace the empty space she left.
When I get to the little stand that sells coffee I give the young woman my order and pay. She smiles at me, but I don’t say anything as I wait.
“How are you doing this morning?” she says cheerfully, and I just nod. “It’s a gloomy day, thanks for coming over and keeping me company.” This time she laughs at her own joke and I look away uninterested.
When my coffee is ready I take a step forward and reach out to take my cup. Just as I hold onto it, her fingers graze mine and I jerk back, spilling some of the coffee on my hand. It scalds me, but I ignore it.
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Let me get you another.”
“I’m married,” is all I say in response as I grab a napkin and take my half a cup of coffee with me.
I’m not good with people anymore. I used to be laid back and fun, but she took that with her. Everything in me that was good and happy shut down and now I’m in a state of hypothermia until I find her and she can thaw me out.
A few weeks after she left, my parents took me to a therapist. She called it post-traumatic stress disorder and talked to them about how to handle it. They did what they could to find her and anyone else that might know where they went, but nothing turned up.
The morning after her dad caught us is still crystal clear to me and that’s what I hate the most. I’ve tried to hold on to every silly memory she and I made, but it’s been a long time and some things are fading. But the memory of waking up and walking across the field to her house is fresh. I can even remember the way the light shone through her window to reveal a bed that had never been slept in. By the time panic set in and I broke into the house it was too late. There wasn’t a single trace of evidence and I spent hours combing through that house for something. Anything.
I walk all through the park until I get to the far side of the pond. There are a pair of swans there I like to watch and a bench that’s under a tree. If she were with me I’d let her put her head in my lap while I read to her. She used to love it when I’d do that. The memory is so painful that it makes me double over and I grab my stomach. It’s been five long years and still every day is like the day she left.
I breathe deep and try to focus on what’s in front of me. My therapist said that naming things nearby will help ground me and keep me from going into a panic. Sometimes it works, and other times it’s almost impossible to keep going. One of the only things that helps is knowing that one day I will find her again. I just have to wait until that moment.
The swans swim close and I open my bag and pull out some bread for them. I toss it into the water and they gobble it up quickly and then swim away side by side. I remember us reading about swans mating for life and she said it was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. She said if reincarnation was real that’s what she wanted to come back as. I told her I did, too, but that’s only so I could be with her forever all over again.
Who finds the love of their life in second grade?
There are emails about work and missed messages from my parents I should answer. There are even some texts from Sam who is still good about checking in on me, but today I ignore them. That’s because today is our anniversary. On this day sixteen years ago, I met her for the first time. This day is probably the hardest other than her birthday and each year it gets harder. I know that’s why everyone is calling and texting to make sure I’m okay. I’m not, and I don’t feel like pretending I am either. At least not at the moment. Today I just want to sit here and think of her and how much I miss her.
It’s late in the day and my coffee has gone cold when my phone begins to vibrate. I ignore it, but then it vibrates again right after and I look at the screen. It’s a blocked number and I swipe my thumb across the screen to answer.