Last Flight With Sweetie

Written 3 February, 2007

Last Flight With Sweetie

I told her.

I told my Sweetie we needed pressure suits.

"We'll blow out from the altitude!" I cried.

"No we won't. Our hearts will soar free."

And so we cranked our MystiTools up to Plaid mode (and she supplemented her speed with God Speed), and we flew.

Up.

Up, past our first record of one million meters.

Up, past our second record of five million meters.

Up we flew, up, up, past ten million meters.

Past fifteen million meters.

And that's where I lost her.

I lost my Sweetie at fifteen million meters.

At about 9000 miles above the surface of Second Life, our avatars distorted beyond belief, and with our souls singing with joy, I lost my Sweetie.

I lost her forever.

I'll never say that happened at fifteen million meters. I'll only say that I came back. She didn't.

I should be heartbroken. I was for a while. But I know at my deepest levels that Sweetie is soaring, soaring, going ever higher, breaking all records, her heart flying free, touching the sky.

And me, well, I was right. That flight wrecked me. What's left of me is going through the motions. My heart is somewhere up there at fifteen million meters.

My Sweetie.

Goodbye.