Shortly after Jenna died, I began cleaning out her room. Her computer files intrigued me. There were many saved emails from when she first met me, and told her friends. Nostalgia and grief mixed, as I reviewed these early messages of our naive glee. Little did we know the cancer was already there.
Weeks passed with little accomplished but reading and tears. Occasionally, a friend of hers would email unaware, and I responded with the news. I made the excuse that it was for their sake that I kept paying the account.
I left the computer in her room; after all I had no one else in my life who would be offended by this. Four years passed with the computer providing me both comfort and loneliness. It seemed the heart of our home now, like her heart still beating.
Eventually I made friends with some of her email friends, and they encouraged me to begin dating again. When I met someone new, I reported it to them with the same naive glee as Jenna had once reported me.
One day, I was so overjoyed with a special girl, that I felt like posting an email to Jenna herself. I wrote that I planned on following her last wish, and was ready to move on now.
I was surprised to see my own message bounce back, with a new reply over Jenna's name, "Go ahead."
The next day I threw out the computer.
submitted at 7:41am
9 June 2012