You can spend many hours near someone and still feel far away.
Same room.
Same couch.
Different worlds on different screens.
The old pattern is to count minutes, not presence.
We were together all weekend,
yet you barely remember actually feeling them.
Quality time is not about how long.
It is about how undivided.
Moments where your attention settles in the same place,
and the space between you starts to glow a little.
Sometimes that happens in big experiences.
A concert.
A trip.
An intense shared project.
Often it happens in very ordinary scenes.
Making dinner.
Walking around the block.
Sitting on the floor with a drink and no agenda.
Love, here, is giving certain slices of time back their depth.