6 months. 
That is 24 weeks. 
That is 168 days. 
That is 4032 hours.
That is 241, 920 minutes.

That is 14,515,200 agonizing seconds of sadness and pain.

She had been counting.

            It was a mild night in autumn as Marissa sat uncomfortably in her bed; with her head pressed awkwardly against the wooden headboard, and her body covered lazily in blankets.  Seven months ago, her life had been a euphoric mixture of happiness and security.  It was at that time that she had fallen in love – embodying every emotion and meaning defined by that word. Seven months ago there was Alex, yet six months ago she was gone. On that fateful night on the beach, the two lovers parted; secretly against their own will. Neither had wanted it to end, yet neither had confessed to feeling more. That miserable night by the fire had written the beginning to a tragic downfall.
            Alex had left Newport, leaving behind no piece of contact information. Marissa had a vague idea of where she had gone but her numerous attempts to find her had proven unsuccessful. A cell phone number once linked to a graceful voice now connected to emptiness and nonexistence. The address of an apartment on the beach was now vacant and meaningless. The phonebooks of Los Angeles held no information for a ‘Kelly’ household, at least not the one Marissa was in search of. It wasn’t hard for Marissa to see and feel their memories everywhere, but every physical trace of her true love was gone. Forever. This painful thought scraped across Marissa’s mind every night; replaying it in her head through late hours as an excuse for sleep. She was helpless. Completely powerless. Nothing she could do or say would help her find the one who got away. Nothing in the world would bring her back. And knowing this made everything else seem just as depressing. The sky was always a dull colour, even though the sun shone brilliantly each day.  All foods lost their flavor, her appetite seemed to die slowly along with her heart. Despite the efforts of her friends and family,  Marissa had never felt more alone; more empty.
            In addition to these painstaking thoughts, the one thing that confirmed Marissa’s depression and indifference was the thought that Alex had never called her. She hadn’t even sent a letter. Not one minute of digital time, nor one word on a small page had been received from Alex. This made Marissa feel even more inadequate as a human being. Even if Alex truly didn’t care about her enough to stay in Newport or to keep in touch, had she hated her enough to sever their bond forever? Had Marissa been left in endless pain and despair and Alex had simply moved on? At first Marissa had made excuses and convinced herself that there was a reason. She had some shred of hope that maybe Alex’s silence could be explained. Many tears, drinks, and horrible months later, Marissa had lost all hope.  The thought of Alex moving on, and even hating Marissa invaded the latter girl’s dreams, and tormented her thoughts during the day. As Marissa sat, staring blankly in her bed, the thought of Alex being with someone else curdled the acids in her stomach. A nauseous feeling more intense than any night before, accompanied by the throbbing of her head and throat. She sat silently as tears formed in her eyes and then poured slowly down her cheeks. They collected in modest pools down her shirt and on the covers. They, too, were dull and colorless. A thin arm reached beneath the pillows as Marissa searched for liquid therapy. From a large glass bottle, Marissa poured back its burning contents. The vodka burned in her mouth and flowed like lava into her empty stomach. Choking and crying, she continued to pour the fluid mercilessly into her rejecting body.  Once she could handle no more, she threw the liquor to the floor and remained motionless in her position on the bed.
            On this night, after six months of emotional and mental torture, Marissa decided that living was no longer bearable and that tonight would mark the end of her existence. The thought had crossed her mind on many occasions since Alex had left – her main motivation being her inability to cope with the pain. Yet also the thoughts of being alone forever, which meant being without Alex. She couldn’t begin to envision lying to herself in order to move on to someone else. And Marissa’s new perspective on life – seeing all things as meaningless, and realizing that nothing and no one had a purpose. Normally Marissa would find reason to refrain from going to such an extreme, or an excuse to last one more day, but tonight there was nothing. There was emptiness and sadness. There was pain and suffering. There was no hope.  There was no phone call. There were no letters. Had there been love? Or had it been nothing? Marissa squeezed her eyelids together and sobbed silently, gasping for air between tears. Coughing, she opened her eyes which wandered to the outline of her bathroom door.