Despite the loss of Max, Liz's life wasn't all that bad. After graduating from Stanford with a degree in molecular biology, she had taken a job as the head scientist in a lab right outside her home town of Roswell, New Mexico. The job payed well and she had even bought a house a year after starting the job. It was small, but it fit her needs and Liz was proud to own it. Her parents still owned the diner that Liz had worked in as a teenager, the Crashdown, and she visited them for dinner a few times each week.

But though her life looked great from the outside, only Liz and the people closest to her knew that in reality it was quite the opposite.

Few people knew about Liz's promise to Max that night in the desert; about the horrible lonliness that overwhelmed her at times. And no one, not even Maria or Alex, knew about the ache that took over late at night when she would think of Max. It was more than love; more than just a feeling inside of her heart. Every part of Liz's being called out for him; her heart, her soul, her very body yearned to have him near. And every day when Liz woke up she was reminded that it was a yearning that would most likely never be satisfied. He was gone, and all Liz had left were memories. Some nights, she would sit for hours, not moving, just thinking of him.

Liz suddenly realized that she had been standing in the middle of her dark home, not moving, just thinking of him. It didn't matter though. This was her life, and she had stopped trying to let him go years ago. In a daze, Liz walked to her room. She changed clothes in slow motion and grabbed a quilt lying on her bed before stepping back out onto the patio. Maybe it was pathetic, and maybe Max wouldn't have wanted her living a life like this, but Liz didn't care. As pathetic as she knew it was, the only happiness Liz found anymore was thinking of him.