Across 3,000 miles, she was reduced to a shell of herself.
No one told her that between the witty texts and swapped photographs, the whole magic of a person could be lost. She dissolved slowly, with each transmission between New York and California delicately chipping away at her sparkle. The conversations proved she was still funny, smart. The photos that she was still sexy.
But they left out every essence in between. The sound of delight in her laughter. The way her smile changed her whole face. The look she used to peer up into his eyes. Her hair that was everywhere and the floral scent that wove into it. The way her palm felt against his back, the way her waist felt in his grasp. Her thinking face, her people watching face, her every nuanced expression that screamed how much she cared.
Her lips on his lips, her warmth in his bed. Their shared expressions at funny things, their observations of nothing at all. The way she looked when she woke up, the honesty in every silence. Her vulnerable moments, her clumsy ones, her crazy friends and their inside jokes. The way she moved in his football jersey, the way she adjusted her glasses.
The distance washed her away to just another avatar, a good on paper person. Funny, smart, sexy.
And that’s how, slowly and irrevocably, he fell out of love with her. Each little part of her magic sprinkled like dust in the miles between them.