He sends a goodnight text,
not expecting anything in return,
just a small beacon of love
sent into the quiet night.
A simple reminder:
I'm thinking of you.
Then he sets his phone aside
and rests his head against the pillow,
trying to quiet the thousand thoughts
that always seem to arrive
after the world goes silent.
Tonight,
he reminds himself
that he is enough.
Not because someone tells him so,
but because he's finally learning
to believe it himself.
Still,
there is one thing he wishes for.
A warm summer night.
The kind where the air is soft,
the world is quiet,
and he could simply hold her
without needing to explain anything.
No questions.
No uncertainty.
No tomorrow.
Just her.
Just him.
Just the comfort
of being close.
He reaches for the penguin blanket
she once gave him,
pulling it close against his chest.
It's funny how something so simple
can carry so much weight.
A little piece of her
resting beside him
when she can't.
His eyes grow heavy.
His thoughts begin to wander,
past the noise of the day,
past every question
he couldn't answer.
And somewhere between
awake and dreaming,
his mind finds her.
There she is.
Smiling.
Laughing.
Existing in that quiet corner
of his heart she somehow occupies
without ever asking permission.
He doesn't know
what tomorrow will bring.
Maybe that's okay.
Tonight,
he has loved her.
Tonight,
he has reminded himself
that he is enough.
And tonight,
with her penguin blanket
wrapped around him,
he closes his eyes
and lets sleep carry him
somewhere the distance disappears.
Somewhere,
he can finally hold her.
In his dreams tonight.
