The light is already streaming through the windows, warming the top of my forehead, when I open my eyes to you.
You breathe quietly. Constantly. The steady in and out of a dream that is not yet finished. And from somewhere behind closed eyelids- because somehow you always know when I’m already awake- you pat my arm and tell me, Just so you know, I’m not through sleeping.
So I smile. And I breathe too. Breathe in the smell of the sheets in their lavender vanilla scented lullaby. Breathe in the way that place just beneath your jawline but not quite your neck yet always smells of soap…and shaving lotion…and you. Breathe in the feel of the linen covers and the soft pillows and the not having anywhere in particular to be just right at the moment.
I live in that place, somewhere between sleep and smile and you. And for a million years and a million lives, there is nowhere else I would rather be.
Eventually we start to wake up, and you say, “hey let’s hide under here from the dog and see if he can find us.” And eighty-five pounds of golden fluff on top of our heads later….we find out that he can. So we get up and we make the bed, and I tell you to “fix your side” just like I always do even though I know you’re already about to. And I marvel at this dance that we’ve perfected. My pillow, then your pillow, then the covers get smoothed. All without missing a step.
We go downstairs and I throw on a load of laundry, so that the smell of more lavender vanilla goodness fills the air. And you hang that hallway mirror that we bought four months ago and never got around to doing until now. We stand together and nod. Slowly but surely, this house is definitely becoming a home. I pat your arm and tell you, “Just so you know, I think pumpkin pancakes and bacon are definitely in order.” And you just smile. And breathe.
Because these are the kind of Sunday mornings our life together is made of. The kind of mornings I’ll look back on at the end of my life and know, this is what it was to love. And really live.
And for a million years and a million lives, there is nowhere else I would rather be.
**He found us.