I dreamt once that I lost you. We were on icebergs. And I can’t remember if you were floating away from me or I was floating away from you. But I remember waking up beside you. It was the middle of the night and it was raining, like tonight. And I heard your breathing, calming me. It was like we could speak without words. I wonder how and when we learned it, this secret language. I only know that, at some point, in the silences, I heard you. And now I’m left with words, these useless words, when all I want is to be beside you again. To make you feel safe. To help you sleep. To bring you back to me.