I think about her every day in one way or another...wondering whether she thinks of me and what I may be doing. That's silly. She almost certainly does not. If she did think of me, I think she would have written by now.

Somehow I picture her walking around in her house, keeping things clean,ignoring things that don't feel like her responsibility, the dog sitting in the window, wanting to be walked. She tells the dog that he isn't going to walk him, but doesn't lift a finger to help.

I picture her, after she wrote that e-mail to me two months ago. She unfeelingly turned off the computer, walked out of her home office, and sat down to watch T.V. She immediately forgot me and there was no beginning or end to that. She turned me off in her head. My memory was sent to that place where all the other short-term memories that couldn't be turned into long-term memories went.