I don’t like this quietness that has pressed itself against me. That says, “Shh, you do not want to wake the bears up!” I feel so compressed. It is so tiny, this place, and so sad. My bones are all missing, are all made up of missing things. Of missing you. I had a wonderful weekend, beautiful even, spent outside by the sea and with my friends. But the end of Sunday progressed into a debacle. You left me hanging between my sheets, restless and upset, which you hardly ever do anymore. I wanted to scream at you! Instead, I stood in front of the window although it was too dark to see anything. It is one thing I’ve learned in our time apart, and that is, if you truly love someone, missing them leaves room for nothing else. It’s crushing my ribs, it’s crushing my lungs. I know you are upset you have no way of changing this. But it is your love that gives me hope, that gives me light and rest. I have asked you a hundred and one times to come back. Although I know it is beyond your control, I fantasize that one day I will ask and you will just come. I can’t help but imagine if I had two minutes to kiss your face and snuggle deep into your shoulder, that our problems will be fixed. That the world will swirl around us, like the sky in Summer. That I’ll live to be a hundred and one and have long silver hair and never lose the feeling of happiness and the feeling of being loved by you. Such sweet dreams I let myself dream.