You know, for over a year before we were "official," before we'd done anything that stepped outside the lines people usually place around their relationships to keep their friends here and their love interests over there, we'd fallen into the wonderful habit of calling each other every night as we were going to bed. It was a great way to end the day, let me tell you. To wrap up our thoughts, communicate to someone our daily observations, to grow closer as friends.

Every single night.

Besides the hopes and dreams and the future that we have to set aside, beside the love that can't be acknowledged in any romantic way anymore, beside the awful loneliness that I know is enclosing both our hearts, there will come that moment as we're getting ready for bed, when we reach for the phone, and we can't pick it up. There will be a hundred, a million moments during the day when I think of something, or I see something that I want to tell him about and reach for the phone only to pull my hand away, but that moment in the night ... that's the moment that's going to hurt the most.