Tuesday, February 17, 2015

My Life Is Such a Weary Thing

I woke up this morning in the center of a paradise I know I don't deserve.

A warmth swept my entirety - my sweet husband's body curved around mine. His breathing ever steady in my ear. His familiarity surrounded me, the comfort I've known for over a decade. He knitted himself close even in his hurt, his tenderness always existing even in his sleep.

Draped over my shoulder, a purring cat. And another one sleeping on my exposed foot. I felt his little heart beat against my skin and his cool, tiny pads.

We were a winter tangle, a beautiful nest of gentle heat and sleepy bodies; tame mammals cooing and clutching one another. 

And for that one moment, I was the one thing every living soul in my home needed.

It only took a few seconds to remember that I don't deserve any of it. And that in a few hours (or minutes, who even knows about time in the middle of stolen contentment) I would wake up and it'd all be gone. And that the day wouldn't let me meditate on that sweetness. That instead I'd swell my eyes shut, crying, before lunch.

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