Come as you are

When she woke up he wasn’t there. She wouldn’t have minded, but she instantly missed him. And instantly knew it was pointless to miss him. They accepted each other fully, their smaller grievances we nothing in the face of their love. They forwent bitterness, to make more room for love. Never bothered with petty arguments, what was the point? They fought over something worthy, or nothing at all. If he needed space, she didn’t hold it against him, if she needed his time, he would give what he could, no question. It was an unspoken devotion, and an unconditional desire. This worked in its way, and they felt safe together. It was only now as her arm exposed itself to reach beyond the covers to feel the bedside table that she felt the coolness of his absence on her skin. No note today. That’s okay. She retracted the arm suddenly, and pulled the duvet up around her chin. No good, she wasn’t tired enough to go back to sleep, being in bed was uncomfortable now. Instinctively, she leapt up, (but still clutching the duvet) and went quickly over to the window. The brightness of the snow outside iced the room. She looked out into the street for him, as if he might just be leaving through her buildings front door. Of course he wasn’t. From her second story window, all she could see was the roof of a Volkswagen below; he’d dragged his finger in the snow, and asked her to be his wife. And she felt safe again, and went back to bed.

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About hereisthemoment

I write. Sometimes I don't.

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