Moments to memories to making it a lifetime

I opened my eyes and took in the room. It was the same one I’ve seen for the past year, the same dark blue curtains on my left, the same black frames on the wall I was facing, the same nightstand holding my book and the half full glass of water. There was light coming in from under the door, the same way it always did when it was sunny outside, and there was the big closet which always had a door open, as if to say there’s nothing hiding there. There was comfort in the sameness and there was comfort in the newness. Without turning my head, I knew what was new. Your arm resting on my chest, your face buried between my neck and my shoulder, your breath making its way towards my back. There were words hanging in the air from last night’s conversation in the dark and there was a scent that wasn’t there before, the mix of skin and emotion finding each other. I let my body lie there and my mind wonder. 

It went from under the warm blanket to the light sheet you carried with you and laid on the earth where sun was still resting. You took out a snack and I took out the book. I wanted to show you my favourite quote, but then I wanted to hear yours without my influencing. You asked why I liked this book so much and why I wanted you to read it. I couldn’t answer honestly. Because how could I have said that it made me think of us? Us didn’t exist then. It was you, the one I met for a short walk a few days before, and me, the one who looked at you and saw the things unseen. And then I tried to put them on paper. Not in words, but in lines and shapes and colours that my mind made out to be you. I was letting unfold a world I was creating. 

That day, your words were building a foundation your soul didn’t agree with. What you were saying with words was contradicted by what you were spelling with the look in your eyes. But you talked and I listened, not to your words, but to your rhythm. And you were singing. You were creating too. The melody you started then is still a work in progress and it will always be, as long as there is life in our veins and love in our hearts. You add a beat, I add a lyric. You give it form, I bring the harmony. We sometimes stop to listen and hear what needs to change. Then other times we dance to it. You extend your arm to me and I let my fingers intertwine with yours. You pull me close and I let myself be gently carried until our bodies become one, until our souls melt into each other. 

Like that afternoon when the sun was resting on my face, my eyes a blend of feelings that translated themselves into colours which pulled you in. You were balancing yourself on the dark green edges of my iris, an act that became part of your dance, an action that always led you to plunge into the honey crypts around my pupils. You didn’t try to swim, you let yourself sink deep, knowing that there isn’t an end to it. That if you allowed yourself to let go of the fear of drowning, you would in fact rise to levels you didn’t know existed. That you would float and you would find there what you didn’t even dare to let your mind imagine. You understood that it wasn’t your mind who was leading this time and there wasn’t anything you could do about it but surrender.

And you surrendered. And I did too. But we didn’t wave the white flag. We laid it down and transformed it into canvas. We let it witness our life and be a testament to our love. It captured words and images, it gathered stains and shapes, it had music woven into its fabric. It got cluttered and it got real. It had moments overlapping and it transformed them into memories we revisited on lazy afternoons when we didn’t go on adventures and we didn’t explore the world outside, but allowed ourselves to travel into the one we were so steadily creating. The one you now brought me back to. I felt your lips on my shoulder and I turned to face you, to let the day begin and the story continue.