I felt like I might pass out. My head swirled as I lifted my head, still struggling to take in enough air. I wondered if this was what it was like to hyperventilate. When I glanced at the computer screen, I saw that another new message from him was flashing. Even knowing that it probably wasn’t in my own best interest to read it, I had to know what he had typed. The new message said, “She has completely stolen my heart.”

My chest was aching. I didn’t want to know all of this. It ripped my heart out to think about him belonging to someone else. I saw the three dots that meant he was typing more. I considered flipping the switch to turn off the computer, so I could put an end to this heart-wrenching barrage of comments. I stopped myself from pushing the button because, on some level, I knew that this typed conversation was much better than having to hear about it or see the evidence of it for the first time in person.

My head was turned slightly away from the monitor, but I could see from the corner of my eye the flashing that indicated a new message. I forced myself to look. He had typed, “She consumes my thoughts. I can’t eat. I’m not sleeping. All I want to do is be with her.”

I wondered if he was enjoying torturing me this way. I knew that I couldn’t take much more of this. I needed to type an appropriate response and sign off the computer. Then I could go in my room and weep. I forced myself to push the keystrokes and hit Enter. My honest response to him was, “She is a lucky lady.”

I knew that I should immediately close the window, but I saw the three dots pop up. Some sadistic side of me had to see what else he had to say. My sense of self-preservation wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation to keep this tenuous connection with him going. Even though each comment was more hurtful than the last, I didn’t have the strength to let him go. I had to see what he wanted to say, even though it was ripping me apart.

The flashing caught my eye, and I read his latest words. “Yes, well, she seems to prefer my brother.” For the first time, a slight ray of hope surged through me. Was he talking about me?

The three dots lit up, telling me he was typing more. I was desperate to see what he would say. “I miss you.” The glorious words lit up my screen. I let out the breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding.