We will fight and dislike each other and find fault where there is none. I will try to be reasonable and conscious of what we argue about but I may be childish and forget to breathe and say things I don’t mean. I will walk away, and hope to calm. When I do, I will come back, apologize, and mostly mean it.
It was early morning, quiet and dark. We were both walking in tandem, breathing in the dewy air, the scent of jasmine prominent around us. Not one who is much for words, you say nothing but you smile that secret smile, and I, smile back and rest my head on your shoulder. We walk together, arm in arm flowing through. There is no destination. We just keep going.
Then it becomes a silent evening in, and the only sound is the turning of pages. We glance up and look at each other occasionally, smiling that secret smile. You’re working on a sketch, a drawing of sorts that you’re drawn to. Something you saw in a dream or a place, and trying to interpret that meaning through colors and shades. I am reading a book – and very much caught in the story, telling you about it when there is a pause in background music. You make predictions, and we laugh helplessly. My legs are resting atop yours, and I’m wondering how effortlessly easy this is. Us.
We both fell asleep with your sketch book in hand. I wake for a few minutes to spend that precious time with you – soothed by your steady breathing and strong arm resting under my head. When you open your eyes, you blink out of that dreamy shadow of sleep, and looking as if you’re seeing the world for the first time. In this quiet moment, time is still. The background music a mere blur of thumps and crescendos.
And within this moment, the quiet speaks the loudest. And it is within the presence of your quiet that I grow closer to you.