August 25, 2016

My dearest,

Our bed is unmade. You come out of the bathroom. I get up from my chair and fall onto our bed. Come over, I say. A hug, a hug.

For a minute there I think you are going to shake your head and ignore me, me being silly as usual. Instead you come over and let your body fall over mine. Your favourite pillow is between us, cushioning our chests. Your right index finger starts caressing the corner of the pillow; you are so cute when you do that. Your other arm wraps around me. Your weight squashes me but I don’t mind.

You can give me a bed hug any time, any time at all, my dear.

Yours, ever and always.