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A Dance With My Future Lover

Inspiration –

“If you had to envision your most remarkable life, what would any random day of that look like” Milton Glaser

Mindset – 

I love this task, writing a day in your life, of the most remarkable life you could imagine. I found it truly liberating and so full of self love. Here is an excerpt from my story, focused on a morning with my future lover..


A Dance With My Future Lover

Sundays always feel so good. Sundays in summer, well they feel even better, you know when you wake and can already feel the sunshine, even in the dim light of my room, and I feel the summer happening right outside the window.

On these summer mornings I find it so easy to wake up and immediately smile. The air and the heat and the dim light in my room, and the instant knowing that the day is full of vibrancy. Even more so on days like this when he is home. I turn slowly, softly, almost not moving a single layer of fabric on the bed to let my eyes take him in.

There is so much to be said of time apart. Most people go on about “I miss you” or cry out “you missed this” but that’s not me. I said it from the very start, and even before we met, I knew this. I would never miss you, if you were away, you were pursuing your life, and your dreams, and your passions in the world and you need to be in that for yourself, to be the version of yourself that I want to wake up and love (and make love to) and love some more. So as I lay here, and my eyes take you in, I feel such gratitude to have you close knowing that I appreciate it, you & us with deep reverences for not just our time together but also the time we are apart, it is the two that creates this.

It strikes me with a little nervousness, which never goes away, how deeply I love you. I watch you. Sometimes, like now, when you are sleeping and don’t know I’m looking I look away because I feel a little creepy! It is so palpable that I could eat it. It’s something I consume as much inside me as it is a concept in front of me. “I am in love with you”, I say in my head.

He is trouble, but the kind that you choose.

I contemplate waking you, which would be almost 100% selfish, but I contemplate it anyway. With a little smirk, I think if you only knew how kind I am to you… I slowly move to get up out of the bed. But before I do, I lean over, and just above your cheek bone, between the cut of your beard and the resting place of your eyelashes, I gently, slowly let my lips hit that small bit of your face that seems the size that is made just for them. My mind may not have missed you but my lips sure did.

I slide out of bed, the tug of my morning rituals calling. I like that you sleep later than me, I like that I get the morning to find my pace, some space and I like not talking before meditating and coffee.

10.05am. Ok, now, I can go wake my man. Not that I’m counting down the minutes.. ok, I’m counting down the minutes. There is never a day, he is here and I don’t feel this little pang of newness and nervousness within that. I honestly don’t think I believed I was even capable of really loving someone openly and consciously until well into my 30’s. I was forced to look at the fundamentals in my being, and I was so closed to love, like being loved, loving and trusting someone, a man even worse than women, it was so far removed from me, like 3 degrees of separation. I could tell you all about it, I could see it in others, I could imagine its vividly, but to do, to act, to be that. No way. So in a sense, it is new. It’s new for me. New to love; new love. I try, and I think succeed to be so kind to it. To myself within it, to shower him with kindness, understanding and open hearted truth. Radical honesty we call it.

I walk up the hall, and into my dim bedroom, I can feel him, his energy is so large, I feel him as soon as he is in my space, he has a presence even when he sleeps. It’s remarkable, that someone could have so much life that even in rest they fill a room. It is surly one of the things I love most about him. This touchable, presence that people don’t quite know what to do with. He turns it up and down and opens it and closes it off, it’s a mastery, a performing art I’m awed by, in a kind of uncomfortable way that makes me both swoon and nervous at the same time. He knows, that despite all my strength, he can bring me on a journey (one I often surrender to) into a world of emotion and feeling I never knew possible, at the flicker of a look or the tilt of an arm. He captivates me. I obviously don’t let him know this all the time. Ha, one must maintain a sense that he could indeed not move me so, but he has me so twisted and I choose him every single time.

As I walk into the room I throw off my tee, because, there is simply nothing better than the feeling of his hands on my naked back. It’s the way he moves my hair I think, or the way he puts his hand around the back of my neck, or the way he pulls me close, like I’m never close enough, or just all of them. Whatever way, it is bliss.

I lay next to him on the bed, and run my hand over the side of his face, up through his hair and down his neck. He smiles without opening his eyes & mumbles, hmm hello baby. I melt. I kiss his face and I run my hand over where I kissed, up through his hair and down his neck again.. “I’ve missed you” he says, eyes still closed.. “I didn’t miss you” I reply back with a smile.. he opens one eye, to see me smile.

He once told me, when he was on the phone, he was in Singapore, and we were not really even together yet, we were connected, but not yet committed to any connection we felt in any real way. Ok, I totally was, but he was not and that was ok. He said “the very first time I saw you smile changed my life” I was surprised, It was random in the middle of a unrelated conversation, and I replied, “oh…” and he continued, “you have this smile that is so consuming, you light up a whole room with it, your soul, your whole soul sparkles and you can see it in your eyes and your mouth and your face and it took my breath away, I felt changed, to see your smile, it changed me”. He always has such a way with words. I have thought of this many times when I see him, see me smile. Its like a self-fulfilling prophesy, one I deeply love.

He smiles, at me smiling at him, “come here” he grabs me, and pulls me in, under his arm, his hand on my neck, down my back, my heart on his heart, I start to beat to a whole new rhythm, his dance, our dance, this music, its everything.

He holds me close as he slowly wakes up, we giggle, and chat a little, and he marvels at how many things I manage to get done before he wakes. Then he lifts my head, to meet his eyes. I could live in there, that kind of clutter of eyelashes and deep dark gaze. Everything in my life is minimal except this complicated messy, dark handsome being who is anything but. He kisses me in a way that makes my heart skip beats, and go out of time, which he has learnt in the past, to look out for, like an indication of achievement of his kissing me, and he smiles with satisfaction and kisses me once more.

There is not a part of this mans body I don’t want, nor a part of mine he cant have and that is the way we make love.

If the space together and apart is what makes us so strong, what makes me continue to fall in love over and over again has to be the little things. The little things he does only for me. It’s about consideration and care. The care he puts into what he does for me. It is the thing that really caught me in the start, that he is a man of action & his actions towards me have always been so intentional and so deeply kind. He does these little things, like say, take me to a particular café for brunch because he researched and found that they are the ones that use the eggs I love most. But he wont tell me he has done this, he will wait and watch me as I figure it out, like little golden kisses of consideration scattered into my life. When I do see them, his eyes and his energy show how this is an act of vulnerability for him. Sometimes he will send me flowers, but for the summer solstice or the first day of spring, sometimes it’s a little trinket or hand made item he picked up on his travels that comes with him telling me an elaborate story just to make it all that more special when he gives it to me. Mostly, like every other day, he will do something with the soul purpose of just making me laugh, such a true gift. When I think about him, with me, the creation of a uniting ‘us’, I think about the amount of time he spends in consideration of what he gives me, and our us, it is so personal, and so very meaningful. He see’s me and turns what he sees into a continuous action of kindness.

Making love to him gives me freakish amounts of energy – really, it’s not normal. So I jump up, say “good morning” with a huge smile and go to walk out to shower and start the day. He grabs my hand as I walk past, and pulls me in to kiss me, hands on my body, my skin tingles under each touch. I smile, kiss him on the cheek, just above his cheekbone in that little spot where his eyelashes meet his face and there is just enough room for my lips. I love you, he whispers. I look him in the eyes and say. I’m glad you are home.

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