In the early morning light, my eyes flutter open and I rub the sleep from them, silently wishing as I always do that I could have just one more hour of rest. He lies next to me, one hand on my hip, his face nestled against my pillow, the warmth emanating from his body such a comfort to my own. His eyes are still closed–he always manages to sleep so much more peacefully than me. He looks even more boyish and innocent when he’s asleep than he does when he’s awake. I gaze at him fondly, playing with a lock of his hair. The love I feel in every fiber of my being in moments like this is akin to the moments where I first laid eyes on my children. I have so much to be thankful for these days. I finally have peace. I finally have stability in my life, and I no longer feel like I’m drowning just below the surface. He gives me hope, he guides me even in my darkest moments. He is strong when I am weak, he is kind when I am angry, he is the opposite of me in all the ways that create such a perfect balance between us. Yes, I cherish moments like these, and fear the day that will eventually come when one of us won’t be able to wake up next to the other. Hopefully it happens when we are old and gray, because I cannot bear the thought of losing him, or of not being able to feel his warm embrace. I can’t bear the thought of my life without him by my side. I finally have true love, and it is everything to me. Watching him sleep, with my arms wrapped around him, these are the thoughts that play in my mind. I am so lucky to have found him.
Finally he stirs, his breathing changing, and rolls over to face the wall. I feel his body tense, he lets out a shameless early morning fart in my direction, and I laugh like a child and get up to start my day.