'Come closer..'

'How close do you want me to come?'

'Closer than close, and we just might stay in this moment forever... But that's wishful thinking.. Do you miss her?'

I considered the question. I let it roll around inside me for a long time. Thinking. Navigating the calm eye of the ever-present personal storm. I searched my feelings. Complicated webs rose up to my mind's eye. The haze of uncertainty and the bleak coldness of long-endured pain seemed to cloud any attempt I made to deliver a sound assesment or answer. But perhaps that was what I have always been guilty of.

Thinking.

I let my fingers flow over the keypad, hammering out something that I was only dimly aware of. It did not matter. Now was not the time to think. I merely chose what to say.

'Wishful thinking gives rise to endeavours to make those wishes come true.. And the moment lasts.. as long as you want it to... I don't want it to end... Her. Sigh. Yeah, I do.' She replied quickly, leaving me not much room to contemplate, to consider or reflect. I didn't want to, or need to, anyhow.

'Reach out to her, Let her know that you're still there. Know what I'm saying?' I could sense her smile of encouragement. Slowly, warmth spread out from within me. Again, I chose not to think too deeply. To let whatever it was that was guiding me, help me along further.

'She knows. Whether she wants to remember that or not, is up to her. Sigh. Yeah, I'm dying for a hug now.' She could not see the emotion on my face, as it betrayed a deeply-felt anguish that could not be articulated. I let out a long heavy sigh, putting the mobile phone back on the table. I held my head in my hands, trying to let the warmth spread itself to my entire anatomy, willing the numbness that I felt would merely melt away.

The numbness stayed. The phone chirped.

'I've never had a way with words, so I think verbal expression is out of my league. Stay close. And I'll attempt to comfort you...'

Did I deserve the company of one who seemed to care? I struggled with the internal conflict, however petty it seemed. The screen stared back, the glow not bright enough to hurt my eyes, but enough for the words to burn themselves slowly into my memory. Feeling tired, I slowly composed a reply. The keys felt warm from all the typing. It pointedly reminded me of the warmth that she was spreading to me now.

I drew an odd comfort, from the incongruent parallels. That the phone itself, seemed to be the conveyor of warmth that she offered.

'Verbal expression was not my strength before either. But sometimes, it's not how you say something. But the mere fact, that you actually do.' Yeah, something I had always believed in. To stay silent in the face of anything, would have been a travesty to our existence as human beings. I hoped she understood. I hoped she would see what I wanted her to see.

I hoped, that she would keep on talking to me. No matter what she said.

'True.. but some things, just simply cannot be put into words...' A slight hurt rose from within. My own failure to articulate all that I felt, understood, knew, haunted me. I kept a lid on the wellspring of emotion, attempting to reach a rationalised platueu of expression. No conscious thought passed through me. It all flowed from within.

'That's.. something I've always tried to do.. to say, the unsayable. You just.. keep on trying, and trying...Sigh..' I let out a very real sigh, one which I felt reverberate throughout me. As if I was trying to reach her in some other way. As if I wanted her to feel what I felt.

As if I wanted to show her that my failure to fully explain what it is that wandered through my heart and soul, were not my fault. That words could never fully convey the intricacies of abstract human constructs.

Love. Fear. Anguish. Pain. Numbness. Cold.

All mere words. All pure caricatures of the meaning and connections they imply.

'You're not as jaded as you say you are..' Again, I could sense that smile. Deep down, I felt it was wasted on me. That I didn't deserve it. I didn't even stop to think whether she meant it or not. Whether all her concern and comforting was sincere, or mere window dressing. It didn't matter. I didn't think about it. Didn't entertain the notion that she was merely lying, merely playing along, merely faking it. That what she said, did not matter to her one bit.

I chose to believe that it did.

'It's hard, dear. To keep ip that sort of faith in my principals. In my beliefs. But I've got you to help me along, yeah?' I tried to lighten up the oppressive nature of my own mood.

'Damn right you do. I'm not going anywhere.' A smile.

The warmth gathered, fighting off the numbness and cold bleakness that had plagued me. I felt slightly more alive, the sepia tint of optimism once again colouring my gloomy vision. She fell asleep, soon after. I got no further reply for the night.

The brief elation I had experienced gave me hope that there was a way out of the jaded rut that I found myself in. That my idealism had a place in the world I lived in. That my beliefs were not mere fantasies that I had drummed up from an unknown corner of my soul. I was lifted. The surroundings were suddenly less dreary. The dark nightwas suddenly more welcoming.

The stars were bright, as I crawled out of the bedroom window, onto the roof. They twinkled invitingly, as if hiding stories of their own. It was damp, the dew not taking till morning to settle upon the rooftops and grass out on the front lawn. I moved slowly, making a deliberate effort to minimise any noise. I recalled what I had told her earlier, when the plague of doubt and negativity had infested my thoughts and soul.

'The moment lasts.. as long as you want it to..' I murmured softly. The rooftop felt perilously thin, as I sat up, and stretched out my legs in front of me. Knees bent, hands anchored at my sides. I drew my head back, to watch the night sky, not a single noise alien to the night interrupting the cherished purity of it all. Ther cherished purity of unmoving time.

Of the moment.

'I'll see you in the stars, dreamer. I'll catch you in dreamland, my dear stargazer.'