We were looking for our old photographs and found this. I think I posted this somewhere before I took all my blogs down. Reposting with minor edits.
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Sunlight filters through the curtain and lands like fluttering butterflies on my eyelids. It’s what passes for sunlight actually. The day is overcast, and it has been drizzling the entire morning. I stretch and groan, and my hands feel warmth; my heart skips a beat. It is still a pleasant surprise and I believe in my heart of hearts that it will always be so. I open my eyes a fraction, and yes, there she was. I hug her tightly and she smiles although locked tightly in sleep’s embrace. “Good Morning honey” I croon in her ear and she curls into my arms in reply.
Unimaginable really where life has led us. To the here and now. The cycles have been both kind and unmerciful. We had held on, and fought it out even as we fought for each other. We stood our ground, and somehow this storm left with us finding ourselves staring at each other in the wake of its passing. There was no spoken moment that defined capitulation. As it was always for us when things did happen, the bargaining is between souls. Agreement then follows assent. Soft eyes and silence. Fingers entwined. With that, commitment is given. More powerful than any spoken word to bind. To show up. Stay. Share.
I stand up, unwilling to leave the warmth of her side. She half mumbles, sounding the way she does when she pouts. I shake my head chuckling under my breath to not wake her up. She was still wrapped tightly in sleep’s friendly shroud. Which was good. She needed that more than she knew. I whistle softly as I proceed barefoot into the kitchen and turn on the percolator. I then start to make breakfast. Omelets, bacon, tomatoes and toast. I nod as an idea comes to mind; it would make a great story. Matt and Ivy. Somehow the morning seemed to be filled with promise. As full and varied as the aroma wafting from the small kitchen. Yes there is a fair chance. That everything will be alright.
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