By Cassie Phillips.
For me, it was the perfect morning.
I opened my eyes slowly and found myself tangled in your arms. The cold air stung my fingertips. You were growing the strength to turn around and hit the snooze button on your phone, releasing me from your warm embrace. A smile crept across your face as you pulled me back into your grasp. I playfully nudged you for what felt like an hour to get up, knowing you had responsibilities to tend to.
After many of my attempts, you made a wobbly trip to the bathroom for a shower. You walked back in, got dressed and inched right back in bed for a ‘quick’ rest. I knew you better than to believe that, so I used every bit of my strength to pull you limply to your feet. The endeavor wasn’t exactly manageable, but we laughed anyway.
Together, we made the trip to your car, exchanging heartfelt glances the entire time. At least, I knew my heart felt them.
I watched the sun begin its ascent. Golden beams of light flickered through tree limbs and grazed my face while you drove along the riverside. We kept our thoughts to ourselves and listened to my favorite song play on the radio, confessing what I couldn’t say, what I wouldn’t say, what I knew I shouldn’t say.
You dropped me off at my apartment, and I watched you drive away on that cold, brisk morning. The air bit my skin the way you pinched my nose. I felt goosebumps travel up my arms. I noticed your smell lingering on my shirt, and I smiled.
That was what love was supposed to feel like on Valentine’s Day.
For you, it was just another morning.
The alarm blared in your ear canal like a fire alarm. Eyes squinted, you unraveled from my grip, sweaty and cramped to turn it off. You smiled knowing you had at least 30 extra minutes to sleep. I snored the entire night, and its ‘charm’ wore off after the first hour. Getting rest is exactly what you needed right now, but I just wouldn’t let you. You griped into the pillow, agitated at my attempts to get you up.
Finally, you walked to the bathroom, so I would quit bickering. I think I was just too much sometimes. After taking a shower and getting dressed, you snuck back in bed when I wasn’t looking. I didn’t let you have one moment of shuteye as I tried pulling you to your feet. You laughed mockingly. I should’ve known how much you needed a moment of peace before the day had to start.
We got in your car and headed to our destination. The drive was tranquil; you got your moment of peace. A cheesy love song played in the background during our trip. You hated pop music with a passion, but your mind was preoccupied with all the work that needed to be done. At least the weather was nice.
I kissed you as you dropped me off at my apartment. You didn’t enjoy my morning breath very much. In about thirty seconds, you were out of the driveway and on the way to work. I blamed it on the stress, but you were so busy that it never occurred to you exactly what day it was.
I hoped it would come to you eventually.