Genevieve went into her cupboard to pick up another box of tissues. She had been non-stop crying since her boyfriend broke up with her two months ago. She hadn't sincerely smiled in months. Just fake smiles to try and hide her pain. No matter how hard she tried to move on she just couldn't let him go. Her friends had endlessly tried to convince her to get out there and try to date someone else. This night as especially hard for Genevieve as it was supposed to be there 4 year anniversary. She replayed the image of her boyfriend picking up his things as he left her house. She vividly remembers his Calvin Klein cologne seemed to send her into a trance every time she smelled it and how he looked back at her just one more time before he drove off in his old beat-up black Honda. She decided she needed to take her mind off of the unfortunate event. Genevieve dragged herself into her small bedroom and wrapped herself in her warm blanket. She turned on her old TV that hasn't properly worked for years but she turns it on anyway because the static comforts her in the most strange way. Genevieve turned on her phone and went on Twitter. She retweeted a bunch of sad quotes and tweeted a bunch of tweets vaguely describing how she felt which sent her into a daze of self pity. Before she knew it, it was 1 AM. The quite hum of her tv static nearly put her to sleep . Just as she was about to give into her overwhelming tiredness a loud buzz came from her phone. It was a Twitter notification. She tried to go back to sleep but she couldn't resist the urge to check this notification. It was a DM from a follower she didn't even know she had. It read, "Hey. You don't know me but I saw you're tweets and retweets and wanted to ask if you were okay." Genevieve had been asked this question almost everyday since the breakup and almost routinely she responded with a "I'm fine" and a smile as she didn't want to be a burden to her friends and family but this was different. She didn't know this person. No strings attached. No biased opinions involved. Even though it went against every Internet safety course she took in 7-12 grade, she decided to talk to this person. Sarah responded saying "Well if I'm being completely honest not really. Do you mind if I rant for a while?" When the anonymous person didn't respond for 20 minutes she decided to do some digging on this person. She didn't find much. Their profile picture was the generic white egg in the light blue assigned to you when you first join the website. Their only tweet was a happy birthday to another Twitter user. Amidst her stalking, this person responded with a "Sure, go ahead." For the next 40 minutes Genevieve proceeded to tell this user how at the beginning her relationship was amazing but how very cliché-ly turned sour towards the end. She told this person about how she was convinced he was the one. She told them how she gave him all her love and lost all self confidence in herself. It seemed that his love for her was acceptance in Genevieve's eyes. At the end of her rant she anxiously waited for this person to respond. There was something so very captivating about getting the opinion of an outside source who had no bias. She waited and waited. Eventually, she gave into her warm bed and droopy eyes and fell asleep. When she woke up she eagerly checked her phone to see if the person responded but to no avail. For some reason, Genevieve was extremely bothered by this. Every notification Genevieve would check quickly with hope but was always let down. Five days later at 3:24 AM a loud buzz seemed to erupt from Sarah's phone and awoke Genevieve. Genevieve went against every muscle and decided to check it. It was from the mysterious Twitter person. With the amount of time this person took to respond Genevieve expected an elaborate paragraph. Genevieve was surprised to only see a two sentence message. It read, "You are what you love not who loves you. Even if you have to fight your hardest and scream at the top of your lungs, before anyone else love yourself." Genevieve smiled.
