She waits for the response. Even though she knows it will be bland. Not saying much of anything while saying everything. Sometimes that little icon that says the message is there is all that she needs. Just to know there is a response no matter how empty it may seem.
There's that little empty place that fills just hair when she knows someone has reached out no matter how devoid, or bare.
There is a little rush to ask a million questions she already knows the answers to. Maybe to hear a familair ring in the words. Maybe to clarify the truth. No matter how she wants, the words she will not let fall loose.