“Can you help me open this jar?”

“I’ll be right there, just let me finish this last sentence.”

“What are you doing Terry?” asked Jenna.

“Just some writing, but it’s not very good.  At least I don’t think so.”
“Well, if you open this jar for me, I’ll read it when I finish making dinner.”
Terry got up from the computer and walked into the kitchen.  “Ok hon.  Let me see the jar.”

After handing over the jar, Jenna walked out the kitchen and over to the computer.  “Jenna, please don’t read that yet.  It’s not finished.”

“OK, I know how you are; I’ll wait until you’ve signed it” she said.  “Did you get the jar opened?” she asked as she made her way back into the kitchen. 

Just as she asked the question, the top popped off the jar and sauce splattered onto Terry’s face. “You opened it!  And you got a little bit of sauce right…here.” she said as she reached out to wipe the sauce off of Terry’s cheek. 

“Thank you, Pun’ kin”, said Terry as she handed Jenna the opened jar. 

“So, what are you writing about?”

“I don’t know.  Just some scattered thoughts.”

“About?”

“You and I, love I guess.” answered Terry as she sat down in a chair next to the kitchen table.

Jenna put the sauce in the pan with the already prepared meatballs.  She walked back over to Terry.  “About us, huh?”  Straddling Terry, she sat on her lap facing her. “Do you mean to tell me that after all this time; you might actually… ‘love’ me?” she said playfully. 

Pulling Jenna close, Terry whispered, “Maybe…  It depends.”

“Depends huh?”   Terry’s lips brushed against hers. “Depends on what?” 

Kissing her gently, Terry began to slide off the chair gently laying Jenna onto the kitchen floor.  Jenna wrapped her legs around Terry’s waist. A soft moaned escaped her lips as Terry pulled herself down on top of her. 
Gliding her hands beneath Jenna’s shirt, she could feel her heart beating rapidly beneath her breasts.  Slowly, making sure she felt every curve of her body, she moved down to her jeans, and undid the top button.  “I love you so much” whispered Jenna. 

“You do?  That’s good because, I’m never letting you go.  Love me or not you’re stuck” said Terry.  Jenna stared up into her eyes, smiling.   “I’m glad”, she said. 

Looking down at her, Terry knew she’d never loved anyone as much she loved Jenna.  Somehow, it seemed that her love for her grew more and more each day and she wished she could just hold onto to these little moments forever.  “What are you thinking about” asked Jenna as she leaned up to kiss her.  “Just how much you truly mean to me.” 
“Mmmm.  So, you ‘do’ love me, then?” teased Jenna.
“More than life itself; I will always love you.” 

Sitting across from Terry at the kitchen table, Terry’s best friend, Chris, tried to get her attention. Terry seemed to be caught up in her own thoughts; watching something only she could see.  Terry was lost again.  It happened a lot, but lately Terry seemed to be ‘lost’ more frequently and for longer periods of time.  She tried again to pull her friend out of her thoughts, afraid of where she might be.

“Terry!” she said, but there was no response.  “Terry, please look at me.  Are you listening?”  Terry’s gaze slowly rose to meet hers, but Chris wasn’t sure if she could hear her.  Trying again, she said, “Terry, this poem is really good… Terry?!.”

Hearing someone calling her name from somewhere seemingly far beyond, Terry looked up from the kitchen floor into the face of her friend. “Chris??”

“Terry, the poem is really good.  You writings have all been very good, but I don’t think you can depend on your writing anymore. In the beginning I thought it would help you move on.”

Trying to clear through the fog that was clouding her brain, Terry tried to figure out what was going on.  Where was Jenna and why was Chris there?  What the hell was she talking about? 

“I just think you should talk to someone.  It might help.” continued Chris.  “You can’t keep this up.  It’s been three years since Jenna died. But I don’t think you’ve been able to accept that Jenna’s gone.  You gotta let her go.”

“What are you talking about” cried Terry as memories of the last three years began to flood her brain.  Screaming, pain, a sudden numbness and feelings of loneliness began filling her head. 

“Terry, I miss her too.  We all do.  But there is nothing we could have done. You know that.  We’ve talked about this.” Chris stopped talking to see if Terry was listening.  She feared she was losing her again to her thoughts.  “Look at me Terry.” She waited until Terry’s eyes met hers. It pained her to see her friend who had been so outgoing and vibrant, now seemingly so lost.  “I’m really worried about you, Terry. Jenna’s gone. I don’t know how to get you to see that.”

“I know she’s gone”, growled Terry as she tried to ignore the painful memories of Jenna’s death.  Feeling the tears well up in her eyes, she looked away.

“Look, Terry, I want you to see someone. I’ll be with you.”  Chris reached out to hold her hand. “It’s in your writings Terry. I know you miss her.  I know it’s hard for you and maybe this is something you just can’t do by yourself.”

“It’s not finished” whispered Terry.

“What?”

“What I was writing.  I didn’t get to finish it.”

Chris looked down at the poem sitting on the table, assuming the poem was what Terry was talking about.  “Terry… you signed it… see” she said as she slid the piece of paper across the table. 

Chris rose from her seat. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back tonight.  So we can talk, ok. I’m going to bring a friend.  I think she might be someone good for you to meet”

“OK,” replied Terry, not really listening, still trying to understand what was going on.  She could still see Jenna, lying there with her on the kitchen floor.  What had she been cooking… meatballs?  She could still feel the sauce on her face, smell Jenna’s perfume and her lips still tingled with her kiss.  It had all been so…real.

She turned just in time to see Chris walk out the door. She couldn’t even remember writing a poem.  When had Chris come over?  She picked up the paper from the table, trying to remember how it had all began.  Turning it over, she noticed that she actually ‘had’ signed it.

Once again she opened the door, because that was what she remembered doing from before. Jenna was there, smiling at her; just like always.