Gigi

Gigi moved away this morning.  For the last 4 years, she's lived in the apartment above mine, on the 3rd floor. It took us a few years to become pals because I tend to stick to myself, but she later told me that she had asked God to let me be her friend.

I've never really been someone's answer to prayer before.

Gigi and I joined the world of online dating together, and had a great time drinking wine and writing strongly worded letters to the customer service people at eharmony. We liked comparing dating horror stories ("He was intellectually disabled!" and "I think he may still be married!") and giving each other advice ("Give it another chance" and "Bye, Felicia!").

But mostly, we liked just being pals... going to the Zoo and on our long, 8-mile walks through Clayton, trying to force our cats to be best friends even though they clearly despised each other. I think Gigi was the answer to my prayers, too, because I desperately needed a friend. It comforted me a lot to be able to run upstairs in my pajamas when I was really depressed and know that I had someone to talk to.

Then Gigi met a guy, which I know is the whole point of online dating. And she fell in love. And she followed her heart 900 miles away, which is a very brave thing to do. Only, now the third floor apartment is empty. It feels just like another hole in my heart. I come home and there's no one there to sit with in my pajamas. There's no "thump" of soft cat feet jumping off the bed. There's just nothing and it feels like a metaphor for my life.

I'm not doing so great. This is the lowest I've been in a really long time, only now, there's no one to help me see the light at the end of the tunnel.