Sometimes the longing grabs me, strange moments when I am least expecting it. Today, a beautifully warm spring day, the sun pouring in through the half closed curtained windows of my bedroom, the peace of the afternoon filling the room with the distance sound of traffic and of birdsong, I looked for my cardigan. The pull was intense, the bed covers still rumpled from where I had slept in them and I wanted to lay down on that bed next to him so much.
To lay there with him on an afternoon like this, on our bed, reading books together, our bodies close, our minds entwined in that way that sometimes takes me breath away, even though no words are being spoken we connect. It’s a simple scene, 2 people reading, the warmth of the day filling the room, the silence holding them in its hand, the books they both read different, yet in time they will be swapped between them, each to read the others chosen story, for what he sees I must see too, the longing to be that connected driving us over and over again into each other’s arms.
For a moment I stand and stare, the bed calls me, the scene within my mind so very vivid that I am tempted to crawl into the bed and play it out, but I know that way only tears lay, because doing that will only allow me to be consumed by my longing for Him, for us, and for now, that cannot be.
I wonder at times what I would do if he ever left me for good, if I didn’t have the knowledge that one day that longing will be satisfied. Could I really go on knowing that I shall forever be alone? I fear not to be honest. For I have come to realise that we are bound so tightly that without that hope I would have nothing left to live for. Could I spend a day on this earth without knowing he shared it with me somewhere? I wonder…..
I never understood before that two people can truly be united in such a bond that the other ones existence is vital to the other ones every movement, every breath, every moment, but I know it now. He has shown it to me, just as clearly as I see the blue sky outside my window, just as clearly as I see my hands on the keyboard now as I type I see what it is he has shown me. I don’t think words can ever describe it, these here are a pale imitation of the ones that are surely needed to describe what it is he shows me, his love for me and mine for him, powerful, binding, pure. In His love for me I find myself.
So I type, and I live with the longing, and the sure-fire hope that soon, oh some day so soon we will do just as I have imaged, we will share that moment and many more. I wait, it’s what I do, but it is so close now that my mind dances with the joy of it whilst mourning each passing day because it has not actually started yet.
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