Lying in bed (that’s a good phrase to start a sentence; grammatically, it’s not ‘laying in bed’ (or is it?)), I couldn’t sleep.
Reclined as I was, our 15-1/2 year old Cornish Rex cat tucked into my left underarm, my wife to my right, our 15 year old Cornish Rex cat on her stomach, I felt my face was flush.
Has been flush for many days now.
Lack of exercise, combined with the anxiety of flight-or-fight, boxed-in, can’t-escape feelings, has raised my blood pressure, filled my circulatory system with potent chemical combos that are not meant for a sedentary lifestyle.
Being in love is like that.
Kinda like marriage.
An attraction so strong you morph into a moth and move toward a mood lamp with breakneck/wing/pride speed.
I want a hug right now.
Not just any hug.
The hug that accompanies a swingout or whip of a dance move.
My left hand holding her right hand, my right hand around her waist, both of us turning in unison.
Eyes locked on each other.
Losing the formality of a routine because we’re having too much fun.
Falling in love again, all over again, again and again and again…
Be it romantic.
A partnership of unspoken understanding.
Do I fall in love too easily? Am I too trusting? Do I think my dance partners have my best interest in their thoughts?
No answers are necessary.
I am in love with the universe — we have each other, subsets within sets of subsets of sets.
I have danced with Earthlings, most who still think in increments of days.
Time to flip the telescope around that was turned the wrong way and focused on the heart, get my eyes out of the emotion-filled microscope and take the long view again.
Love in the moment is most beautiful but Martian colonies need more than love to keep growing!