Last night, through telephone wire, I pressed my forehead to yours and you grabbed my hands and held them tight.

Nothing existed outside of the sound of your voice and harsh, soft, soundless breath against the receiver.

I confessed with words forcefully ejected from my lips and desperation, regret pouring from my eyes. You forgave me whist squeezing my hands. Your thumb pad stroking the back of my hand to comfort, reassure me.

There are not the words to express what I feel for you.