I come into the room and start undressing, searching for things in my closet.
'How was your day?' her voice echoes the room.
'You're not really there, you're just a piece of my imagination.'
'And if i am just a piece of your thought, it is still Your thought. You thought of me. And want me. Come lay with me, like in the days you had me over for coffee. Those chilly days when you called me and said i should come over. And i came every time, and you brewed me coffee. And we sat and sat and told each other whatever crossed our minds.'
'Those nice old days.'
'Those days when your worries didn't pile up and touch the sky. Those days when you carried me in your thought and i carried you in mine. Those days when we used to lay in your bed for hours and hours, just staring at the ceiling and thinking of things. Why don't you call me over anymore?'
'Because i missed it. I missed my chance. I had it and i lost it. I'll never be yours now. Come. Lay with me. Like in the good days.'
'Like when i had you over for coffee'.