“It is the saddest part of my day, leaving you.”
Yesterday morning, albeit technically yesterday afternoon, while we were having breakfast I had this flash of Love Actually. It was the scene where Aurelia and Jamie are saying goodbye for the day prior to him driving her home. The saddest part of the day for her is when she has to leave him, and for him that same time of the day is his most happy, because he drives her home, because they have that private time together.
We will not let go of each other, when we hug. After all of this time there are still those awkward fumbling moments, part of the process, I suppose, the evolution of our relationship. It is the saddest part of my day, when we part, tempered by knowing that we’ll see each other again, beit the next day or the next week.
I don’t know how to write about something I do not understand; in this case, something neither of us understands. I’m not bothered by it in the slightest and while we don’t know really quite what it is, we do have something, defying explanation or classification, wonderful and worthy of being cherished regardless.
If I may be so bold, I would say that perhaps we have mastered silent communication. So many things are said between us by simply a glance and with nothing more we’re able to convey to each other even the most complex of ideas.
Sometimes I think even that isn’t quite enough. There needs to be, every now and then, something definitive, even if that declaration is only to prove the vague nature of things. A moment where I embraced him, while were drifting to sleep; “Is this appropriate?” and he replies, with great warmth and settling all fears, “Yes, and very nice.”
Another moment, similarly, and I say “There are times where I want to kiss you… and I just don’t know if I should.” While, quites honesty, I don’t remember how he phrased it, but also, in that same sort of warm and reassuring way he let me know that it’d be fine; more than fine really, but on some levels isn’t that a given?
I’m not sure if it’s luck, because really, everyone at this point should know that it’s beyond that, but I still find myself wanting to rejoice in how lucky I am. These are moments where I could so easily receive the sort of response that… would be, shall we say, less than desirable. In these moments though, the responses, as I’ve said, have been warm and reassuring. Granted, a few weeks ago, he did answer the most rhetorical of questions I could have posed; before I could even state that I didn’t want an answer, our world changed.
I chose to stay. I choose to wait. Waiting when told directly not to, to save my feelings, to save his… I’m just not willing to give up on something that continually brings me happiness that, without agenda, rivals anything I’ve felt before.
This entry has been timestamp edited.
