Like two magnets drawn at the very essence, you moved closer.  You let go of your grip on the couch’s arm rest and with every move either of us made, the distance proved smaller.  Your arm draped across my knees, my hand holding yours.  Your head laid on my leg, my forehead to yours, our breaths in sync.  I stroked your hair and you sigh.  This is what you meant when you wanted to lay with me until everything else faded into the distance.  I could feel myself dripping all over you, covering you with who I am.  You just laid there, comfortable in me, me comfortable in you. And the world was ours. Until you had to leave again to play another character in another play of a theatre I’m never invited to. “I miss you.”