I’ve been searching through your feeds, trying to find you. Collections of articles beautifully arranged with full-colour images, 3D renderings and 360 videos. There is one of a girl on the beach, bikini flat belly, bucket and spade in hand as though she were a child. I assume you are the one behind the camera.
I search for a tag and find nothing. Completely unattributed. No geotagging, no date nor facial recognition.
Is this the one you spoke about or the one you never mentioned? Oh, don’t think I’m stupid; I know about them both. Sure, you were willing to share about the first one, but I knew there was another by the way your eyelid twitched when I asked about love. I wish I knew why you never said anything about her. I guess it’s too late now for me to ask. I thought this would be a way into your password-protected secret history. It took me months to get in — they wanted to make certain that you were truly gone, I suppose. No point in making it easy access. Bereavement is so easy to fake.
But now that I’m in, you’re still as much of a mystery as ever. I don’t recognise most of the early stuff — status likes from people I never met and comments from family I’ve only just started talking to.
I was so sure I would find you here. It was always your best-self; your carefully curated soul. It was the part of you I want to remember. Let everything else fade away. Let the digital remain. Let me fall in love with you again.
Originally published on Tumblr
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