And last night, I thought of her. I thought of the impenetrable darkness and the gaping hole between our spooning bodies; if I try to turn over, I may fall eternally into the abyss of endless atmosphere enclosed by our figures. I thought of the chill of her fingers loosely dangling over my shoulder, and the goosebumps of cold flesh I could feel within the warmth of her arm draped over my back. I thought, for a moment, of the days when, without prompt, she eagerly embraced me as we lie in bed as though I were a treasure she would never chance being stolen in the dead of night.

Now she is lost. I am shepherd missing a sweet, soft lamb standing melancholy atop a hill. I recognize her absence, but know not where she's gone.

To miss what is beside you, and fill with sadness as you drift to sleep.

I thought.