I lie there, the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering in through a gap in the curtains. I listen to the in and out rhythm of his breathing as he falls into sleep, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, twitching as his body fights the vertigo that the subconscious meeting the conscious can create. I concentrate on the feeling of his chest against my shoulders, stomach against my back...from the top of my neck to the bottoms of my heels we are connected by an unbroken line of warmth that feels as though it in itself is alive. there is something very soothing about this. this is something I have not felt in a long while. I feel as though I could lie there forever, never feeling restless to get away, never trying to untangle myself from an awkward embrace because I embrace the awkward as our laughter smooths it away...there is no bad feeling here.
I blindly toss my eggs into one basket haphazardly, not caring if they break or get lost. not caring if the basket is even there to catch them because if it means that I get to hold onto this feeling of comfort and affection if only for a moment, then that moment will be precious as long as I feel it. it has been a long time since the warmth of another penetrated the cool exterior of this self. making it glow from the inside out.
so fuck it, I toss my eggs and my caution to the wind because life is short and I move forward with or without these experiences. all I want to know is feeling, the feeling of warm breath on the back of my neck, of laughter late at night, of a painting started, a painting finished, of being loved by a daughter a brother a friend, of all the things that make me want to live because I am tied together, moment by moment by a string of feelings and emotions that have been woven to create this self.
the thought of the future is a frightening thing, but the thought of feeling happy is not.
