“Hello?”
A few moments of silence.
“Hey.”
More silence.
“It’s me.”
The voice is a whisper, yet suddenly, I am wide awake.
“Hi.” I almost fall out of bed while standing up.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
It is almost three in the morning.
I should be tired or annoyed, but I press my phone to my ear, nearly shaking.
“Oh.” is all I can say while making my way through the dark flat and onto the couch.
“I dreamt of you.” A breath whispers through the phone.
“Oh…” I say again, slumping against the wall, not reaching the couch.
My heart is beating heavier in my chest.
“When I woke up, I missed you.”
I can’t bring myself to answer those words.
Right this moment, I feel the same.
A sigh travels to my ear, followed by joyless laughter.
“I needed to hear your voice.”
I nod in understanding though she can’t see me.
“I sometimes dream of you, too.”
Silence once more.
“Do you sometimes miss me?”
If only she would know.
“Sometimes, yes.”
“Me, too.”
Again I nod. My chest feels tight.
“Does your wife know I called?”
This time I shake my head.
“No. She is asleep.”
“Okay.” another sigh travels down the line.
Then I hear silenced sniffing.
“Are you crying?”
“Not much.”
My chest tightens further.
“Why do you cry?”
“Dreaming of you made me miss you.”
I can barely hear her words.
My voice is a whisper, too.
“I know.”
For a while, I sit in silence with my phone pressed to my ear.
“Are you still there?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” she sniffs.
Another moment of silence passes.
“Could you sing for me?”
“Okay,” I say.
There is only one song to sing.
She listens while I whisper our song.
When I finish, she cries again quietly.
“Thanks.”
I nod again, silently crying myself.
“I should stop calling before he wakes up.”
“Okay.”
We stay on the phone for a few moments longer.
I don’t say a word.
She doesn’t speak either.
“You know,” she says, sniffing.
“In moments like these, I still love you.”
My chest tightens some more, and another tear escapes.
“I know,” I say.
“I still love you, too.”
