Morning light spilled softly into my room, brushing the blankets with a pale gold glow. I awoke with my phone still on the pillow beside me, its screen dark now, but I could almost hear the echo of Skip's voice from the night before—warm, steady, protective.

It hadn’t been a dream.

He really had stayed with me.

He really had talked me to sleep.

And the comfort of that lingered in the air like warmth from a fading fire.

I rolled onto my back and smiled up at the ceiling, touching the place on your pillow where his voice had last rested. “Good morning, sweetheart,” I whispered to the empty room, imagining those words falling into his hands across the miles.

The phone buzzed.

I didn’t have to look to know it was him.

Skip:

Morning, my love. I woke up thinking about you again. I swear you’re becoming part of the air I breathe.

I pressed my hand to my heart for a moment, letting his words settle deep. His words made me long to be in his arms, to wake up next to him, to be able to look lovingly into his eyes. With a bit of sadness all I could say ",Skip, you are already part of mine. I feel you with me even when I open my eyes."

A few seconds passed.

Skip:

Tell me everything. Tell me how you slept, what you dreamed, how your heart feels this morning.

I pulled myself up against your pillows, my breath warming the phone as I typed. "I dreamed of you walking toward me. You smiled. And for once, you weren’t far away. It felt so real I woke up reaching for your shirt."

His reply came slowly—almost reverent.

Skip:

Someday, you won’t have to reach. Someday you’ll wake up with my arms around you. If I were there right now, what would we be doing?

I closed my eyes. A slow ache unfurled in my chest—painful, beautiful, like hope stretching its wings for the first time in a long while. "I would have to touch you to make sure you are really here. I would touch your face, brush my hands across your cheek, while staring into those beautiful brown eyes. Then I would kiss you, your lips your eyes, every inch of you. I want to know the physical you, I already know your heart and soul. I have longed for you for months. I need to feel you, your hands on my body, your lips on mine. I need you to love me, skin on skin. For months I have closed my eyes and envisioned that my hands were yours. Tweaking my nipples, touching me all over."

Later that evening…

Rain tapped gently on the windows while I curled up in my favorite corner, wrapped in a blanket, my phone glowing softly in my hand. The world outside felt far away. Calm. Safe. It existed only so the two of us could talk without interruption.

Skip:

Tell me something honest.

Bee:

What kind of honest? The soft kind or the scary kind?

Skip:

Both. I want all of you.

I hesitated—not out of fear, but because the truth was bigger than I'd ever said out loud.

Finally, I typed, "I feel like you’re becoming the place I go when the world gets heavy. The person I want to be weak with. Strong with. Loved by."

A long moment passed before the phone vibrated again.

Skip:

Bee… you have no idea what that means to me. You’re not alone. I feel it too. More than I expected. More than I can hide.

My throat tightened with emotion. Some bonds form slowly, quietly, unexpectedly … but they are no less powerful. "Your turn, time for you to say something honest."

His answer appeared slowly, as if he needed a moment to steady himself before typing.

Skip:

I’ve been looking up travel times.

And plane tickets.

And how soon I could realistically be standing in front of you instead of imagining it.

My heart stopped.

Just for a beat. Then it fluttered hard, almost too hard. "You… have?"

Skip:

Yes. For days now. I didn’t want to say it too soon. But after last night… after hearing you breathe while you fell asleep… something inside me just snapped. I want to see you. I want to hold you. I want reality—not just connection through a screen.

I pressed my fingertips to my lips, my eyes warming. The thought of him—solid, warm, real—standing at my door made my breath catch. "What did you find?"

His next message was almost a whisper in text.

Skip:

That it’s possible. That it could actually happen. That the distance between us isn’t permanent… It’s just temporary.

I felt a tremor of pure, quiet happiness. "What will you do first, when you see me?"

There was no delay this time.

Skip:

I’d pull you into my arms so tight you’d feel exactly how long I’ve missed you.

I’d hold your face in my hands and look into your eyes until we both stopped shaking.

And I wouldn’t let go until you told me to.

I swallowed softly, my breath unsteady, "I don’t think I’d ever tell you to let go."

His next message made my heart melt.

Skip:

Then I guess I’d hold you forever.

As the rain quieted outside, a new kind of silence settled around me—full, deep, hopeful. The kind of silence that comes only when two people realize the future they’ve been imagining might soon become real. I lay down, pulling the blanket up to my chin, my heart warm and fluttering.

My voice was unsteady, charged with emotion. "I want to talk about this more tomorrow. About seeing each other. About making it happen." I needed time to process my thoughts, to stop my heart from beating out of my chest, to think rationaly, with my head rather than my heart.

Skip:

Tomorrow, next week, whenever you want. I’m ready when you are, and I’ll be here tonight too, if you get lonely. Just whisper and I’ll answer.

I didn't want to end the conversation, it was almost painful to say good bye, to go from the warmth of the conversation to the reality of sleeping in a big bed alone. But soon...

"Good night, Skip… sweet dreams my luv."

Skip:

Good night, my darling. Sleep with the thought that soon, I may be holding you for real.

I closed my eyes, my lips curving into a soft smile. For the first time, the dream of him holding me wasn’t just a fantasy—

It was a possibility.

A promise.

A future waiting to unfold.