They had spent little time together. But within a few conversations, two individuals with fictitious names had succeeded in making the other feel a wee bit less lonely. She had him enthralled with the details of a fabricated life and he was an extremely patient listener. She became his guide, counselor and friend. But she never got personal with him. The life she was recounting was never hers. It was a combination of what she aspired, what she saw and what she sought. She went over the details of the fabricated life repeatedly. It had become one of her favorite things to do. He, on the other hand, eagerly lapped up everything she concocted.
The end of their relationship was just as abrupt as its beginning. But she missed him and thought about him often. She wondered if he ever thought about her.