I drift away, because at some point it becomes too hard to send the message or make the phone call. Just like it’s become too hard to get out of bed or make dinner or drive my car. But you don’t expect them to let you drift. In your fairytale fantasies, they pull you closer. They knock down your door if it’s too heavy for you to pull. Your arms push, but they force the embrace until you believe that it’s actually the best and safest place to be. That isn’t what happens though. They don’t mind that you get further and smaller and fainter. It’s easier that way.