(I wrote this for a stranger whose spouse is far off right now but I thought you might enjoy it. Except I fucked this up when I sent it to that stranger, who could misconstrue it in a depressing way. So this is the revised bit.)

My wife, before she was my wife, went off to school on a distant coast. We were weeks apart, sometimes months. Rain fell. Nights lasted days. But during that time we lived out events we could tell each other about for months after. A year from now, you’ll remember some dream you had while she was away and you’ll say to her, “Did I tell you about the time I dreamt I was a kite?” And like that the space that’s between you now becomes a solid thing you share in the future.