There was this urge to pick up the phone and send you a text.  ”Come home soon.  I need your cuddles.”  The thought stopped me: you wouldn’t get it until morning and the sun would have already saved me by then. It’s in the moments of darkness, rain, the time that I spend watching the flames in the fireplace that I can feel your hands across my shoulders.  You may not realize it but you’re here with me. Your presence is[n’t] intentional.