His warm body slides down next to mine, despite the early hour, I am too awake for my own good. I steal kisses even though I know he would have prefered me not noticing his arrival, because he doesn’t want to disturb me. It must be around 4-5 in the morning and now that I’m awake I can’t find the platform to the sleep-train.
I toss and turn for a while, I want to be close, I want his heartbeat to sway me back to sleep but his chest hurts my ear and I end up next to him instead.
The alarm goes off, yanks me out of sleep and allows all the uncanny dreams I’ve been having surface to my consciousness. We cuddle and he is in good spirits as usual, I feel like a dream-walker, not really asleep and not in reality just yet.
In a jiffy he’s out the door, he leaves with an “I love you” but I don’t hear so he looks at me long-faced. He repeats and I repeat.
Whilst I’m breaking my fast I look at the dreary sky, feeling happy that time is moving slowly today and I let out a small wish saying “Please weather, stay gloomy.”
In the distance I hear the cavalry choirs sing to the comforting tone of a church bell, they make for an interesting combination, I think of it as a chant of war and faith. The tune is abruptly disturbed by the noise from an ambulance. Isn’t that life in a nutshell? Whenever one is experiencing a highly satisfying moment, something disrupts it. During a deep conversation with a friend, a silent moment by the beach in the sunset, sex, etc. someone or something comes in like an extra in a movie and forces the main characters to stop doing what they’re doing. As if it’s a reminder of how life is not a silent moment by the beach, but actually filled with life at all times, and life can’t be ignored or stoved away, it simply is.
Josie Mattsson 