Page 172 of Glitched Play

I open the luggage case with all her letters and add it to the pile, and I realize it may be time to get rid of them, but I’m not quite ready to let them go.

Slouching into my desk chair, my mind races. I grab a pen and paper, ready to write her back but a little voice inside my head knows she’s on pins and needles waiting for me to respond. She was always a little impatient. Rune had to buy the new skin the first day it came out, even knowing the company would discount a bundle in the week after release.

So I open my laptop and pull up our secret, encrypted chat that reroutes the IP address a million times. Both of us could probably get around it and find out where each other is in the world, but neither of us ever have. Or maybe she quit gaming and became a beautician. She always talked about hair styles of the avatars and made hers unique.

I look at the time stamp on the last message. It was one hundred seventy-three days six hours and fourteen minutes ago.

Somewhere between 92 days and one hundred seventy-three I quit thinking about her every day. Because of Maci. But Rune deserves a response. Should I tell her about Maci?

No.

Rune was my world and she deserves to know that in case I didn’t tell her. I’m much better at communicating now. Maybe now I can tell her.

Rune,

It has been one hundred seventy-three days since your last message.

Statistically, I concluded long ago that you weren't coming back.

I was correct.

Today your final letter arrived.

Thank you for sending it.

You once told me closure wasn't something another person gives you. It's something you decide to accept.

I think I finally understand what you meant.

We're old enough now that introducing ourselves by our real names probably wouldn't feel strange anymore.

I've often wondered what yours is. I’m sure it’s beautiful like your soul.

You never asked for mine and I appreciated that.

You let me become whoever I needed to be before I knew who that was.

You carried me through more years than you'll ever realize. I told you enough but sometimes changed the person I was chatting about to an aunt or a cousin when it wasn’t, but you were my outlet and I needed you.

Every success I've had and through every impossible thing I believed I could build.

Somewhere in the foundation is a conversation we had.

Thank you for believing in me before there was much to believe in.

I should also tell you something I never admitted to either of us which probably tells you everything you need to know.

You became part of every version of my future.

I don't know exactly when that happened.

I only know it did.

Maybe that's inevitable after ten years.

I hope life is kind to you.

I hope you laugh often.