So many things race through her mind as she sits on her bed late at night. This is the worst time. Old thoughts break through to the front of her mind. Her phone sits silently next to her. She stares at it intently. She wishes with all her being that the phone with buzz and a message will be displayed. Something that would serve as a distraction from the thoughts pushing at her brain. She need him to make her smile and be ever thankful of his presence in her life.

But she knows he won’t text her. He has already said good night to her ages ago; it seems at least. A tear runs down her cheek as she continues her helpless stare. When she can take it no longer, she picks up her phone and sends a message of her own.

The response she gets is helpful, but not from who she really wanted to talk to. The thoughts subside. Retreating to the corner of her brain where they remained until the next time she was alone, when she was the weakest.