It always begins after he leaves while I'm still not dozing off mid-sentence. I lie there, in absolute silence, lit by the glow from the screen, very incapable of falling asleep. Sometimes my thoughts freeze while I try to decide whether to rush forward or backward. To dream or to ruminate.
That smile I fell in love with teases me to recollect, fill out that face, paint out every detail, every pore, every smooth curve that, by now, I surely must know very intimately. But, the smile is all I remember. Years with him and all I know of my love is his smile. That's all it took, really, to begin with. That's all every day is about. Keeping that easy smile intact till the end of all this. At the end of all this will be a life that can not be described. Even if he tried.
Early morning drives, pass-me-the-sports-page, pasta fights, blatant consumerism, lazing around, sweet-nothings, ear lobes for lunch, indie-movie induced siestas, disastrous meals,you-have-a-pretty-nose-when-I'm-drunk, and then this very moment, lying in the dark, feeling the gentle wave of his breathing, thinking of his smile, while snug in his arms.
Why in the blinkin world did I choose this when I could be doing that?