I Have Seen Her Tears

Six years ago, when I was eighteen, a car accident made me "become" a dying girl for a few minutes. I will never forget the pure, almost divine love she felt on her deathbed. When I woke up, I was holding a silver hairpin that didn't belong to me. I also gained an ability. With just one inch of skin-to-skin contact, I can "become" any woman for a few minutes and personally experience the deepest wound in her heart right now. Her breakdown. The tears she least wanted to shed. The last thing she wanted to say. I see it all. But there is always an emptiness in my heart. Because every woman I get close to is, deep down, looking for someone else. The "her" whose face I don't even remember, who kept me alive when I was about to die. She could be dead. Or maybe it was hidden by someone.