Delilah Miles Apart, Never Far for Delilah Delilah, there is a version of closeness that has nothing to do with distance — the kind that lives in a voice crackling through a screen at midnight, in a message sent at 3am your time, 2pm mine, because something reminded me of you. We keep different hours. Our mornings don't match, our nights don't align, but somehow, when we talk, time folds in on itself and it's like no gap ever existed. I carry pieces of you in ordinary moments — a song that sounds like something you'd send, a joke I save to tell you later, a silence I know you'd fill perfectly. Distance asks a lot of a friendship. It asks you to trust what you cannot see, to believe in a bond held together by nothing but memory and intention. But you've never let the miles turn into forgetting. Every call, every late-night text, every "I miss you" — it's proof that we chose this, again and again. So even from here, Delilah, you are not far. You a...