Four a.m.—
     I wasn’t there.

Her words,
    small but boundless,
   waiting on my screen:

           "I need you."

I felt them
  like a weight,
  like a wish

  I was too late to catch.

But if she only knew—
    I *was* there,
    just beyond the edge…
                of waking,

    folded into the dark
    that wrapped us both.

And now—
    the day is quiet,
               empty,
               ready—

    with its own ache.

And I won’t fight it.

Not today.

Let the longing be.

Let it stretch out
       like a sigh—
       like a tide—

       pulling away,
       only to return…
                      softly,
                      but
                      surely—

       and then…

It breaks—
   a rush,
   a roar,
   a fleeting thunder—

   before surrendering to the waiting shore.

Somehow so soon— (while so far away)
        no more missed moments,
        no more unread needs.

        no
          more
              missing.

Just her voice,
     and my answer—
          immediate,
          undelayed,

     the distance erased
     by the simplest truth:

     "I’m here."