It's 11:30 PM. A phone call, nothing new, but an unchanging nightly ritual, as if his voice and hers complete the day.

You smile, and you hear in your tone: “Did you know you've started calling half an hour early? I think you miss me more than usual tonight.”

He laughs softly: Maybe... and maybe I miss the sound of your voice before I go to sleep.

You: As usual... Okay, I'll talk to you for a bit, then let you fall asleep.

Today has been long, and I felt like I was talking to everyone but myself, and now I'm... breathing.

He falls silent, and you hear only his breathing... then he breaks your silence with a tone that's a little annoyed, but not angry, more amazed, tinged with something he can't quite understand.

He: What's with that voice of yours?!

You pause for a moment, but before you can ask him, "What's wrong?" he continues, as if the words fell from his heart without permission.

He: Your voice isn't ordinary... It pulls the sadness from deep within me, And creates a feeling inside me that I don't know, But it restores my desire to live... It makes me breathe. How I wish I could share the same bed with you... For no reason, just to feel your warmth.