Normal
In the morning my alarm goes off first at 6:07 AM. It’s one of several timers I have set in hopes of an early morning start, but in practice become a series of deferred loud noises. Every twelve minutes we stir for a moment before my hand instinctively waves and swipes right to dismiss the intrusion. My feet reach out for your feet, and for a moment they’re welcome. Quickly, however, it becomes much too warm and you pull away. I smile and fall back asleep.
Finally, at 6:43 AM, I lift my head up and cancel all future interruptions. I take a moment to see the sun touch your face and then kiss your cheek softly enough to let you dream a bit longer, but firmly enough to let you know that I mean it. You provide me with the reason for this day and, inspired, I rise.
The shower confirms I am awake, and then I hear your footsteps enter the bathroom. Drawers are opened, yawns are discharged, and we begin our day together. The curtain is suddenly pulled back slightly and I turn to squint through the soap in my eyes. I feel your hands rub my back while you sneak up to my ear to tell me, “Good morning, love.” and deliver a return kiss to my cheek. I rinse off while saying, “Great morning.” and then leave the shower to your routine.
I stand in front of the window cooling down, waiting for you to make another graceful entrance before me this morning. Secretly, I delay getting dressed until you reveal what you’ll be showing off to the world today, and then I choose my attire to compliment. I’m not sure if you know that I do this, but I do it just the same. Sometimes you say, “You’re still not dressed?” and I think that I am found out, but I utter some nonsense about “the humidity” and you laugh while shaking your head. I live for you, is all, if I’m being honest.
You leave the house first and come to kiss me goodbye. It’s always a quick peck, but most days I let you turn away slightly after the aforementioned peck before spinning you around to give you a proper goodbye kiss. I think you always wonder if I’ll do that or not, and it has become our little game each morning. You tell me that you love me and I tell you that I will miss you. You know that I love you and I know that you will miss me.
Before you reach your car, your phone buzzes with a “Have a good dy” text because I love you and also because I have trouble typing on my phone. You send me back a whimsical emoji response, and with it, enough smile to get me through the next eight hours. Throughout the morning we exchange declarations of why our days will be disastrous or victorious, and offer each other solace in the fact that we’ll be together at the end of the day.
At 12:03 PM, however, you look up to see my face sitting across from you. Your look of confusion perfectly transforms into one of excitement that could sustain me for forever. It would seem that the end of the day couldn’t come quite soon enough for me, and the only remedy I knew for my dismay was a surprise lunch date. My favorite part of this day will be the terrific smile on your face that you choose not to restrain even a little bit, and those five seconds of you resting your head against my chest while saying, “I’m so glad that you’re here.” Trust me, I am, too.
It’s about this time that I take your hand and do not offer it back for the next hour. We have a quick bite to eat and then I walk you around the city while looking up at magnificent buildings and inventing new ways to make you laugh. I confess that I have a big meeting in about 45 minutes that I’m extremely nervous about and you scold me for coming to lunch instead of preparing. “Spending time with you is how I get ready for everything else,” I explain. You blush, wrinkle your forehead, smile, and then call me a fool — not necessarily in that order. I agree with you, wholeheartedly, and then I say, “I love you” with even more of my heart.
I give you a kiss and then we rest our foreheads together. My arms wrap themselves around you and refuse to let you go. Strangers walk past us on the sidewalk. An old woman smiles approvingly as she moves along; a young boy giggles and points to his mother. Quite naturally, I do something to embarrass you like sing The Temptations at the top of my lungs until you playfully push me away and laugh. We say our goodbyes and you turn around to walk to your office. Your phone vibrates in your hand, but you don’t look. Instead, you smile and keep walking, knowing that it’s an, “I love you” from me. Sometimes, however, it’s a “GREAT ASS” because I am a great ass and sometimes fail at being funny. Either way, I watch every step you take until you’re completely out of sight, and then I walk back to my office, missing you for the entire duration of my return trip.
At roughly 2:13 PM, my presentation doesn’t go well and we talk about it through texts. You misunderstand what I say or I misunderstand what you say. The only text left to write is “Okay.” Both of us are upset, but both of us want it to actually be Okay. There is radio silence for 49 minutes until, finally, one of us sends the other an “I’m sorry” followed by a “No, I’m sorry” response and our normal is restored. I use my impressive charm to convince you to leave work early and we both race home to each other.
When you enter the door you hear me prepping for dinner (read: singing too loudly and making a mess). Just like that morning, I feel your hands rub my back while you sneak up to my ear to tell me, “I’m home” and deliver a kiss to my cheek. I drop the work in my hands to spin around, place my hands on your cheeks and give you a kiss that’s almost worthy of you. I say, “Me too” because I am a dork. You agree with me.
During dinner, we tell stories about our days and rest comfortably in the silences. Eventually I get lost in looking across at you for a few minutes until you discover this and tell me to eat. I take a few more breaths still to gaze in your direction and you call me, “Silly.” I agree, but declare tomfoolerously that, “I simply cannot help myself. This is entirely your fault for being everything I have ever wanted and I cannot allow you to be upset with me for it.” You smile and surrender, and we love each other. We’re in love with each other. We need each other. We agree.
We spend the rest of our night together in a constant state of embrace. You on your computer finishing work from the day; me on my phone crafting and rewriting emails after your thoughtful review. Every now and then I surprise you with a kiss on the cheek and every now and then you lay your head on my shoulder. We’re together. I feel safe. You feel safe. Then at roughly 9:13 PM I suggest that we get in bed and you demand, “What took so long?” With our technology in tow we scurry away to embrace the comfort of bedtime together.
Once in bed, you read your way into imaginary landscapes filled with characters and romance while I trace the contours of your delicate arms with my fingers. I continue my lifelong study of each and every freckle on your skin while breathing in the love of my life to soothe me from the rest of the world. Eventually, you fall asleep next to me and I reach over to brush the hair from your face. I stay awake as long as I can, because my dream is waking one, and I collect every second that I can with you.
At 12:07 AM, as my eyelids begin to betray me and fall, I take one last look at the woman who blesses me each and every day. I confess to myself, “She makes me strong. She makes me joyful. She makes me feel loved. She is the best thing in this world and she is the only thing I will ever need.” And then, anxiously, I fall asleep so that I can wake up and show her how I feel all over again tomorrow. Oh, how I look forward to tomorrow.
