It took a while but I eventually deleted all the text messages that she had sent me, the proof that she loved me, all the words I'd counted, and all the words that meant so much.

In due time I stopped the candlelit vigils to my mobile phone, the hopeless waiting for the sweet caress of one more missive. For there is no comfort in plastic and SIM cards, and I was tired of wasting evenings in the agony of her not calling.

There comes a time for letting go and moving on. Everything breaks down. But shallow wisdom offers no consolation and so all that's left is the bitterness and regret and the memory of what once was, and the ache of what so very nearly could have been.

And when the day came to remove all traces of her; I knew that when it was all gone; that all I would be left with would be the word 'empty' on a glowing screen. A word to match my emotion.

© 2002 Paul Anders Johnson