The World Sleeps Until You Wake

You once wrote to me, “the world sleeps until you wake up,” as we lived our separate, parallel, lives, but we were somehow already joined by that gossamer thread that unites every couple. I’m a romantic, yes, but I know that what I feel about you is more than just some whizzing endorphins doing their thing when I feel your touch on my skin last thing at night and your eyes on me first thing in the morning even when we’re 10,000km apart. You’re a part of my consciousness, someone I think of involuntarily now throughout my day. Wondering about how you are is like taking a breath.

And then, the clock chimes 7, or 8pm, and it’s my turn to be without you. You’re usually going to sleep first, unless I’m awake into the wee hours of the next morning. So in my evenings I get to luxuriate in you. I get to wonder about you, and I’m well aware that in these spaces between seeing one another, touching one another and talking, we could be inventing false narratives, but then I look back at the words we’ve written to one another, and I think about the feeling I get when I listen to your voice, how my feet feel more solid on the earth, how I feel like I’m more inside my body and how my shoulders drop into their correct posture.

I feel warm when I think about you. And I’m usually a person with cold hands and feet, who needs an extra layer with her just in case.

***

As I read this back I know I have been GIDDY and drunk on you all summer, and I realise that I still am, but that it’s maturing into something deeper than “oh look how compatible the internet says we are”. I think of all of the combined hours we have now spent talking on the phone, each wrapped up in the thoughts of the other, and I find myself wondering if this time spent living thousands upon thousands of kilometres apart will be the thing that we look back on as the making and cementing of our bond. I wonder if it’s a blessing, because most other couples living in the same place might get lots more physical time together, but I wonder if they know one another's brains in the same way as we do after four months.

I suppose it’s not the comparison, anyway, that is important. What is important is that the world still sleeps until you wake, that as I write this I’m fully conscious of how much I desire you, and that although sometimes frustrating to not be able to reach out and touch your arm, lace my fingers with yours, look into your eyes, or stroke your head, noticing how much those moments are missed is as crucial to understanding what this – us – we – means to me. I’m very much enjoying letting that flow over me, and through me, today as I write at my kitchen table, waiting for you to wake up in the tomorrow that you’re already in.

The Summer Bubble

The Summer Solstice (Sunday, June 21st 2009)

So, there's someone, suddenly. Today, this someone I’m just getting to know - there have been 8 truly lovely meetings – found a long, silver hair at the back of my head as we left the house and ventured out into sunshine. I was mortified. My birthday is coming up and I’m continually reminded of my mortality. But no, said he. 'It needn’t be a negative thing. It’s a sign of transition.'

Isn’t it just.

Wednesday, June 24th

Last night I saw him play a gig in Kentish Town. He sang, played guitar and compered the entire evening of live music. He thoroughly charmed everyone’s socks off, including mine. His voice is delicious – deep and soulful, and the women he sang with had voices that complimented his own well – treacly and smooth. I enjoyed watching him work a room. I’m always most attracted to those who can.

Monday, July 6th

It was the 16th meeting on the 4th of July. We walked around Battersea Park at dusk and kissed by the river, the lights on the Albert Bridge twinkling at us coercively. We sighed at everything, and somehow fell into an easier rhythm than ever before. Suggestion was in the air – from the fading light and the sounds of starlings to the lamb burgers that crackled and hissed on the griddle at just before midnight. Spinal Tap kept things light for a while, and the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble carried us on their groove, but soon The Boss gave us his blessing and we were Zorbing with Stornoway into the night.