Somewhere out there, there’s a boy in Germany.

To me, he was a friend. Online only. I never saw his face, but he saw the most intimate parts of me.

He talked to me while I lost my childhood dog.

I talked to him while he mourned losing his grandfather.

Somewhere in Germany, there’s a boy who doesn’t know how special he is inside. Not his looks, not his body, not what he can make a girl feel, but who he is in his core.

I don’t care if this wasn’t real. I don’t care if it was an anonymous user. To me, this boy was the only outside friend I had in the darkest part of my life.

Then he vanished.

All I was left with was “this message cannot be found because the profile has been disabled.”

Somewhere in Germany, there is a boy named Nikolas. 

And somewhere in California, there is a girl who misses him.