I woke up that morning very, deliciously, slowly.
My first awareness was of the gentlest possible of breezes coming from the open window. The breeze was warm and soft, like a feather without the tickle. Just barely noticeable. If I had been moving, I would have missed it entirely.
On the breeze wafted the smells of the City of Lights. Fresh bread. Fresh flowers. Fresh coffee. It was a day renewed, and everything feels ready for the day's adventures.
There are sounds, too, associated with this most European of capitals - perhaps even the capital of Europe. It's a city, and a big one, full of life and people and needs and wants and desires. It must be fed. It must be cleaned. And it must go on carrying the people in its ark-like embrace. The first sound I hear is close by - the thin, gauzy curtains rasp across the window sill. Then I hear the sounds of people walking the narrow streets below, some hurrying, others more methodical, some sharp and dressy and formal, others heavy and plodding and slow. I haven't opened my eyes yet, but I can almost see the people walking by as they move on to their destinations.
Sounds of a city coming to life. A moped. A delivery truck. A bicycle bell. A friend calling out to another. It embraces my ears with foreignness and comfort all at once - I feel surrounded by humanity. It must be how a child feels in the womb.
I feel the tickling sensation of sunlight on my eyelids. I turn my body on the bed, not yet willing to relinquish my comfort. The very white, thick comforter feels airy and light over me, like being enveloped in a cloud. It feels luxurious and lazy and warm and perfect.
Then I do open my eyes, and my first view is of you.
And my world really is perfect. You are here. You. You. You.
You open your eyes, like the windows of heaven, and I am overcome with joy. Just. Overcome. Because in all the world, you are here with me. The world seems to slowly fade away as I consider your lovely eyes.
I can imagine nothing more perfect.
Because you are here. And I love you so.
My first awareness was of the gentlest possible of breezes coming from the open window. The breeze was warm and soft, like a feather without the tickle. Just barely noticeable. If I had been moving, I would have missed it entirely.
On the breeze wafted the smells of the City of Lights. Fresh bread. Fresh flowers. Fresh coffee. It was a day renewed, and everything feels ready for the day's adventures.
There are sounds, too, associated with this most European of capitals - perhaps even the capital of Europe. It's a city, and a big one, full of life and people and needs and wants and desires. It must be fed. It must be cleaned. And it must go on carrying the people in its ark-like embrace. The first sound I hear is close by - the thin, gauzy curtains rasp across the window sill. Then I hear the sounds of people walking the narrow streets below, some hurrying, others more methodical, some sharp and dressy and formal, others heavy and plodding and slow. I haven't opened my eyes yet, but I can almost see the people walking by as they move on to their destinations.
Sounds of a city coming to life. A moped. A delivery truck. A bicycle bell. A friend calling out to another. It embraces my ears with foreignness and comfort all at once - I feel surrounded by humanity. It must be how a child feels in the womb.
I feel the tickling sensation of sunlight on my eyelids. I turn my body on the bed, not yet willing to relinquish my comfort. The very white, thick comforter feels airy and light over me, like being enveloped in a cloud. It feels luxurious and lazy and warm and perfect.
Then I do open my eyes, and my first view is of you.
And my world really is perfect. You are here. You. You. You.
You open your eyes, like the windows of heaven, and I am overcome with joy. Just. Overcome. Because in all the world, you are here with me. The world seems to slowly fade away as I consider your lovely eyes.
I can imagine nothing more perfect.
Because you are here. And I love you so.
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