The days bleed into each other. If we learn of the day, it’s all the same. Everyday is Sunday or everyday Wednesday. Mornings stuck in bed. We promise ourselves we’ll wake up earlier tomorrow, but somehow we dismiss the 4 alarms we set. Defeated, giving into warmth, in the bed of our Dream Away Palace.
“Good morning, beautiful. Did you have any dreams?”
And so begins the daily ritual. Consequently, mornings begin late. Tomorrow, tomorrow, we’ll be better tomorrow.
There is comfort in the known. I know what today will be like and foresee what tomorrow will bring. The fire is lit, breakfast made. I’m just now rolling our shared tobacco. Something as simple as this. A slight change, a minutiae of growth is big in my eyes. He grins sweetly at my first success and I grin back proudly.
Everything is fun size here. From Our little studio we spend our days in, to our miniature stove we light occasionally in the Dream Away, the medieval looking tent. We call it our little tandoori. Little tandoori requires the smallest pieces of wood, a stove fit for a gnome. We doubled over laughing at how ridiculously small it was when it came in the mail. Henry finds zen in the act of chopping tiny pieces. We light tandoori for yoga and special evenings before bed. At night we watch the firey reflections dance on the walls. A small bundle of wood sits in front of the Dream Away, with the flue from the stove sticking out of the tent, I imagine what sort of people, or non-people live there. A British Flag hangs in the entrance. I joke it’s the British Occupation.
It’s kind of crazy, we spend every waking and sleeping moment together. When he leaves to grab something, I say, “Ok bye, miss you already!” Knowing I’ll see him in less than five minutes.
We talk. We talk about our future, our past. From if we were an animal scenarios to if we could change the world. Layer after layer, revealing ourselves. Secrets I’ve held onto for fear he will finally see me and turn away. But instead I’m held tighter, loved deeper. Embraced.
This time it’s different. The fear of expressing the truth of our hearts is open. And finding validation in those three words is real. This moment, these days, they won’t last forever. Shortly, we will part and continue onward towards our dreams. But this love, this bond, this truth-it’s solid and strong, unwavering, and real.
I thank the stars for giving me something to hold onto. For giving me a home. When I have searched for so long to find this home, seeking it in other countries, other towns, other places. I’ve found it in a heart.