Have you ever wanted to go to someone's house in the middle of the night? Someone you love.
To sneak up the stairs and push open their door, hearing their even, heavy breathing. To watch the moon fall across their dreaming, rag-doll-relaxed body. To climb under the comforter, the way you did when you were little and had a bad dream. To lay your head on their shoulder when they woke up. To curl up in their warm, still-sleep-relaxed arms and pour your sore heart out to them, and then fall asleep to a quiet rhythm of breathing. Nothing remotely sexual. Just comfort and warmth and gentility.
I need that right now.
How is it that I miss him so much sometimes?