The Softest Place in the Whole City

The city outside my window has turned to grey again, but in here, darling, time only moves as slowly as a cup of cocoa cooling on the table. I kneel on that fluffy white rug—my safe little island—and pull the light-blue sweater tight around me until it feels like being held by someone who loves you without asking for anything back. My fingers find the controller, familiar as a heartbeat, and on the screen my boy is laughing at my terrible aim, his voice warm through the headphones even though he's three cities away.

I used to think love had to be grand, loud, a storm of roses and midnight calls. But tonight I understand it differently: it is the pink bear he slipped into my bag last spring, still smelling faintly of him. It is the way he never tells me to stop playing when I am sad, only says 'one more level' like a lullaby. The lamp glows amber behind me, and for a moment I swear the whole world has leaned in close to watch us be soft together.

So I smile, big and unashamed, because happiness looks good on me tonight. And if you are reading this and your shoulders are still tight from the day, come sit beside me on this rug. The controller has two sets of buttons, and there is always room for one more pair of hands in our little warm universe.

Editor: Coco