Daydreaming

The sunlight streams in my dining room window and catches on the copper tones in my auburn hair.  I smile at my new hair color.  It's lovely, I think, and fitting for me.  Though it's red, it's not obnoxiously red.  No fire engines will confuse my hair for their long-lost cousin.  :)  No, the color I went for has a quiet vibrance.  Fitting, as that is how my love makes me feel.  Quietly vibrant.  Full of life and happiness for the first time since the last time.  I'm sweeping the floor, only paying partial attention to my chore.  Most of my mind is lost in thought of him.  If I stay lost in my thoughts long enough, it almost feels like he's just at work and will be coming home soon.  Of course, that's not true.  He's not in my city.  He's not even in my state.  Rather, he's halfway across the country, living a life completely separate from mine.

It's so easy for me to picture our lives together.  Possibly it's because I've been doing it for so long, but I honestly think that we belong together.  It is so easy to be with him, to consider myself his.  Nothing is forced when I'm with him.  I don't feel the need to constantly be doing something, going somewhere, putting on a show for the benefit of others.  I'm...relaxed.  Content.  Comfortable.  Being with him is as natural and peaceful as being in nature for me.  I feel like I belong with him.  I wonder if he considers me in the long-term?

Though I do my level best to control my thoughts, I cannot help but glance at my left hand and wonder what it would be like to see his ring there.  Before I can stop myself, I'm swept up in a vision of him coming through the front door of our home, sneaking up behind me.  Suddenly his arms are around me and his laughter fills the room at how the surprise has made me jump halfway out of my skin.  I laugh with him, giving him a playful swat.  He takes my broom in one hand and my hand in the other, leading me out of the kitchen to the living room.  Pulling me down on to the couch next to him, he holds me and we are just still for a while.

I lean my back against his chest, my head turned so I can hear his heart beat slow and steady.  He rests his cheek on my hair, trailing the fingers of his right hand up and down my arm, our left hands twined together so our rings glint gently in the evening light.  My eyes close against the utter perfection of the moment.  It's difficult to imagine life getting any better than this.  Behind me I feel his breathing become ragged and his heartbeat quicken.  His fingers trace their path up my arm, but instead of trailing back down to my wrist, they continue.  Across my collar bone, up my neck, to gently tilt my head up.  For the briefest moment before his lips cover mine, I meet his eyes.  The depth of love I see there overwhelms me.  I close my eyes and give in to the moment...

I have to shake my head a little to clear my vision.  It's so damn easy to think of myself with him.  So easy to feel his touch, his lips on mine, because I've felt it before.  It's a struggle, on the other hand, to make myself wait here patiently.  Only five more days, I tell myself for what must be the fiftieth time today.  Five more days and he'll be greeting me in the airport.  Five more days.  Surely I can last that long?  I consider what I must get through in the next five days and suddenly I worry about what shape I'll be in when I finally get to him.  Sighing, I force that thought out of my mind.  We'll deal with that if we come to it, I tell myself.  For now, let's just sweep the floor and try to be patient.  As I concentrate, my sweeping becomes a little more aggressive than is absolutely necessary.