The Silences I learned something today, it's in the moments of silence between dreaming and waking, between life and death, and between breakfast and lunch that really matter the most to me.
In the moments between your sleep and waking, the world is full of hazy morning light. You are stunning as you move from one to the other. Your lashes slowly sweeping upward to reveal the most stunning eyes I have ever had to fortune to look into. You are always warm, snuggling into the covers, trying to escape the light that is slowly creeping in through the hotel blinds. When those eyes finally focus, the smile that greets me is the warm hazy smile I wish could always greet me. Too bad we are so restrained by the business that we choose to indulge in.
You have moved me between the phases of life and death. With your love, I was able to move and accept what my heart wanted to deny. When the hospital called to speak with me, I was terrified. If you hadn't been there, I would have lost it on the spot. Your arms were there to comfort me and to support me through the difficulties such actions oftentimes present. When father decided to pull her off the life support, I was so mad with him, his condemning her to death. You helped me see the suffering that he was freeing her from.
Strangely enough, it is the silences between breakfast and lunch that mean the most to me. Those times when we can share the same space and, without even the need for physical contact, feel like we are the same person. Sometimes I think that we have achieved telepathy, but not really. Those silences are the most comforting of all. Even in the presence of the world, we can share everything with each other and no one need be the wiser for it. With all the time that we spend together, it is not those private moments where we can share all the conversation in the world that mean the most to me; it is the moments of silence.
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