Yesterday

After breakfast, Matt and I went home for a siesta. It was Sunday, and Sundays are made for a nap after breakfast.

We slid under the covers and lay in each other's arms and cuddled warm body against warm body, stroking skin absentmindedly.

Those soft bed clothes are the best shields of steel that I know. Soft and protective.

I love Matt's size, his volume, if you can put it that way. I like the feeling of him next to me, taking up that space, his space. Warm and safe, him and I against the world, just naturally.

Matt fell asleep first.

I rubbed my head gently against his. He groaned sleepily.

I kissed his sleeping face, softly, and thanked him for being there, silently in my head. He hummed in his throat, happily.

I gazed out the window to the day, feeling, you know, kind of blessed, not having to go through this life alone. Oh yes, I know it is probably good for us to stand up and live our own lives, yeah, sure, I can see that, even if I don’t want to be that.

Then I must have fallen asleep too.

And, you know, any troubles – not that I had any I could think of – seemed so far away.

Love seems like such an easy game to play.

I believe in today. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I dreamed of a flower meadow. The sun shining through, what we used to call, fairies, which I thought was kind of appropriate. My gentle breath through those white fuzzy balls, watching them come apart and float off on the breeze and the sun's shafts of light. They take flight and wherever they land is all a dream, so it would seem. 

It took me back to being a kid, when that is what we did, picking the fairies and seeing who could blow them the farthest. 

Don’t you just long for simpler times, when you had no idea what were crimes, and what bad people did in the world.

Hold up your fairies and blow, that was as exciting as the day got, and that was a great day.