There's a silence over the room and what feels like over the world, that never exists in the same way during the day. Even the lights have fallen quiet, for light speaks too, in a different way. Everything is hidden, everything is still, everything is quiet. Not sleeping but not awake. Slowly I slide in under the warm, protective covers, like the arms of a mother. Woven from soft strings of heavenly clouds. She's laying on her side with her face turned from me, never moving, never speaking. I move in as close as I can without actually touching her until I wrap my arms around her and kiss her soft, naked back. I entwine with her and we entwine with the stillness. Every fear, every worry, every though drowns in that deep ocean we become. That silence feels like music flowing through me but even more powerful, as if that sielnce is angel song it moves my soul with it's tender strokes. Her body isn't there, but I feel her, I taste her, I smell her, I breathe her, so intensly I almost believe I am the ghost and she is the flesh and bones. And who is to say that isn't so? I've stopped being me so long ago and instead became a whole, one part of one whole. Flowing like water and we're floating so high even the God's are jealous. In that moment everything else fades, every argument and insecurity, every obsticle and impossibility becomes so small. Because nothing is bigger, nothing is more important. That moment is divinity, it is the peak of, the bottom of, the stop of and the start of existance all that once.
I don't know, I just really miss my wife at nights.