…when you wake up, and he’s right next to you, as if he’s been there all night and never left, even though in reality, he’s 500 miles away from you. But you feel him here, next to you, on the pillow beside you. He’s sleeping and smiling in his sleep. And you look at him as if he’s there, sleeping and smiling, and it just makes your heart lighter. Even though he’s smiling somewhere 500 miles away from you. Or maybe he isn’t smiling, maybe he’s just sleeping. Maybe even snoring. But you feel so good because you feel him like you feel yourself, here, next to you, on the pillow beside you, that you’re ready to forgive him everything – even the snoring, even the morning breath, even the messy hair and the crumpled cheek. And you want to kiss the crumpled cheek.
But you lie on the pillow, where, beside you, there is him with his crumpled cheek and messy curl, snoring and breathing in the morning. And you remain silent. Because you’re afraid that your careless movement might shatter the morning fantasy.
You know perfectly well that you’re making it all up, that he’s somewhere 500 miles away from you. Even if he were in the same room, there would still be a distance – a distance of 500 miles. You realize that stars rarely fall from the sky. But you simply feel good from the tickling warmth in your chest that feels like kittens, a feeling that makes you want to smile from the very morning, get up, do yoga, go somewhere, do something. At least to wake up tomorrow morning and smile at him, smiling in his sleep somewhere 500 miles away from you.
And once again, feel him like you feel yourself. Near you. Around you. Inside you – your heart, your cells, your thoughts, and your life…