Vulnerable, lonely and a little cold at one am.

Alone in my bed I pretended you were near to me, as I was grazing my fingers across your chest in a repetitive motion, soft and slow, like waves.

"I need to tell you a secret. But you can't tell anyone, scouts honor", I called out into the dark.

"I'm afraid of dying. I mean, I don't believe in much. I don't believe in beginnings and endings, I don't believe in the past or the future, I don't believe in heaven and earth. All I know is that life is, and that it is precious and holy. The thought of existing outside life, or just ceasing to exist, well I just don't know how to deal with it."

And you ran your hand through my hair

but you had no response.