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She was waiting, and remembering; remembering the first tentative email. He is just like you, a victim of love lost, her friend had told her. He needs...someone to talk to, just like you do. Someone who could understand. A sympathetic ear. So she sent the email, expecting nothing yet hoping for everything. And waited. She waited a lot, and sometimes felt like all she ever did was wait.Her last boyfriend made her wait too. First she waited for him to ask her out. He was a cute guy in her senior. He went to the table and picked them up now, his heart breaking, tears threatening as he read the words he'd written to her years ago. Words of love and need, of wanting and desiring her more than he'd wanted to breath. His knees gave and he slumped into the kitchen chair staring at the old, lined paper he'd written to her on at night, in his room at his parents house. How he'd told her of his dreams for their future, something he thought of constantly.His dreams, how simple they had been.. More

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