6x6
Six feet by six is the size of the room we selected, shared and decorated with our bodies. Afternoon light and sounds cascade across the wood floor as the warm summer air is interrupted by a cool breeze entering the window. Goosebumps run up and down his arms and legs. He’s been awake longer than asleep today so I let him rest. His chest raises and lowers quicker and a slight moan suggests his dream startles his psyche. I place my hand to his head and wipe away sweat before gently placing another pillow under his head.
The same memory has woken me a hundred times over. And I can’t fall back to sleep. So I watch him quietly during our midday slumber. Waking to a feeling that seems to never completely pass leaves you haunted. My sleeping hours are filled with thoughts of actions that can’t be taken back and musings questioning if they ever existed. You can’t know what someone’s thinking or feeling but there’s so many things you see when you look closer.
Watching his chest expand and retract reminds me how precious life is. As the lazy sun climbs the walls and blankets the floor, I see his eyes open. Watching me back he smiles and says nothing. I feel out of my body as though I am looking down on it all and realize that I feel more present in this instant with him, someone I hardly know, than I’ve felt in a long time. Gently he places his hands on mine, lips on mine, circling me closer with his legs reminding me what it’s like to feel human again. For a moment I’m liberated from the room in my mind that’s much smaller than the one we share on this warm day in June.
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