Memories

Flat screen

I pull up your image. Your sweet smile, tinged with sadness. Your clear, crystal blue eyes, twinkling happily. You seem so cheerful, like you never are, and like I never could be. You hold out your hand to me, as if asking me to join you. Your open hand, to me, is like an offer. An offer to join you in that world, where I can be carefree and happy with you.

I study your face, wondering if you really mean it. Without my notice, a tear slips down my face, and suddenly, my eyes are wet, and I cannot stop myself from crying. You are never happy, yet now, in that world, you are.

My hand reaches out, shaking, to take yours. But when I do, my fingers touch cold glass, a flat screen. I press harder, yet the screen is still there, keeping me out, keeping us apart. A small sob escapes me. I can never reach you, no matter how hard I try. I cannot reach past the screen, cannot break the glass that keeps us apart.

So I stay there, alone, sadly looking at you, through the glass, knowing that I can never take your hand and join you.