Sam stood on in the sand, the warm waves crashing at her feet as she gripped the letter in her hand.

‘To my dearest Sam’

What was she, fucking ninety?

‘I’m so sorry…’

That was it. Those three words. Those first three words were the only bit of Sarah’s letter that Sam could stomach. The rest of it? Bullshit excuses. How did Sam know? She didn’t, but hating Sarah for being selfish was a billion times easier than missing her. Missing Sarah met thinking about her and in doing so, Sam would have too many questions. Too many why’s, how come’s and… what kind of sick fuck plans an entire future out with their signaifcant other only to turn around and off themselves that very night.

How? How could Sarah really be gone when she was just in Sam’s arms. They laid in the hammock in Sarah’s backyard, underneath millions of stars, they planned their wedding. Sure they were only nineteen, but still. That night, Sarah said the words; “Let’s have a monkey as our ring bearer” as if it were a promise. That night Sam and Sarah talked about the future as if they were planning a novel or writing a script. They spoke as if their tongues were made of magic, and every word they said would be a wish come true so long as they said it out loud; To each other. But when morning came, all those promises were washed away.

When Sam got the news, she thought it was a bad trip or a nightmare; But no matter how much she screamed for herself to wake up, she couldn’t. She was trapped, trapped in something called ‘real life.’ But suddenly it wasn’t real anymore. At least not without Sarah in it.

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