It is said that when a person dies, there is only one place that they go. When they reach that place, all the ills of their life are left open to them. Thus, their afterlife is wholly of their own creation. If they can bear every transgression of their life, then their death shall be, if not pleasant, than at least bearable. If they cannot, then their hell is of their own creation.
It is also said of the dead that they encounter notable people of their life who have also passed on. This can be either a blessing or a curse, depending who they meet, and how they have treated people in their life. For some, it is nothing short of torture. For others...
She had found him, she had found him, she had found him, and that was all that mattered to her.
She sighted him first, from quite far away and launched herself at him.
His eyes widened as he realized who it was.
When they came to each other, it was with a sort of disbelief that can only come with two people meeting after a long seperation. The looks they gave each other, the looks of, "Are you really here?" lasted for longer than most anyone would have thought possible.
"Back then..." he said, not daring to raise his voice over a whisper, "I thought you were dead..."
"I am now," she replied, just as softly, but she managed a slight giggle.
"You know what I mean."
"I suppose I do..."
They stood in silence with each other for a while before he only half-jokingly said, "You know, this might not be real at all, and we each might just be a figment of the other's imagination..."
"Don't ruin this for me..." she whispered. "I don't care if you're not real, or if I'm not real, it's just that it's been far, far too long, and as long as you're here, I don't care if you're not real..."
"So as long as I look like me, you're happy?"
"Maybe..." she said. "Maybe not. But right now, yeah, that's good enough for me..."