No. 48 - Morning Light

He rolls over and looks at the clock. Sounds of cars passing by in the distance and birds already on the morning hunt filter in to the otherwise quiet morning. “Why is it that I keep waking up so early?” he wonders. And as he contemplates this thought myriad others vie for his mental attention.

Beside him rests the love of his life. His gaze slowly meanders down her still body, the morning light softly gracing her curves, and his desire for her pulsates deep within. He stretches, careful not to awaken his sleeping beauty, and his thoughts return to considering the events of the previous night.

He does not recall of they had gone to sleep frustrated, or if the conversation ended in a way that was mutually acceptable. He wonders what the morning will be like… will they enjoy one another, or will the morning end in another conversational stalemate? In the back of his mind remained a sense of unfinished business that will not go away… but what was it?

“I’ve been thinking things over and I want you to know you have to stop saying one thing one day, and then another thing another.” she said, still motionless, but letting him know she’s awake.

“Good morning to you, too.” was his reply.

“Morning”. Then, “Sometimes you really make me shut down when I’m being vulnerable and you don’t respond how I need you to. That’s a problem for me because I need to feel safe”, she said.

He wonders if she had slept at all last night. “Look, Baby, I understand and I apologize for that. We’re both learning how to be together – even though it’s been almost three years – and I think we’re doing fine. Look at all the good things we’ve accomplished. Look at all the things we don’t argue about anymore… doesn’t that count for something?”

He longs to hold her, he longs for her to rest her head on his chest, to wrap his arms around her and feel the warmth of her body close to his. He hesitates to respond, careful not to appear too eager, too assertive. He decides to be quiet, wait and see how the conversation progresses.

She rolls over to face him. “It does, count for something… I’m not disputing that… but I still have my needs and I still need to feel safe. That’s your responsibility”, she says.

“Is it? Am I responsible for making you feel safe or are you responsible for deciding it is okay to feel safe?” he asks. Inside he feels a growing sense of ire. He wonders, what is it about talking to her that sometimes causes this reaction and why couldn’t she just see that he was working hard to become a better person – for both of them?

“I know I’m not perfect and I know we have a ways to go but still, I can’t help but feel you need to make me feel safe.”

“Okay, Baby, okay… if that’s what you need then I’ll keep at it. Tell me, what exactly is it that you need me to do?” he offers.

She looks at him, yarns, and then rolls over. Her back now to him she adjusts the pillow. “I already told you… just don’t ruin it when I’m feeling vulnerable. You know what that means. If I have to walk you through it again then maybe we have further to go then either of us thought.”

In his mind he screams: “Oh NO she didn’t!” He leans up onto one elbow and looks at her. Even while in the midst of this discussion, even as his mind is racing to put the discussion to rest, and even as the two seem to be headed down that familiar road to argument and separation, he cannot help but know they both love and care for one another very much. Out of his lips comes: “I have to ask you a question. And please don’t take offence.”

She lay there a moment, and then turns to face him. She says nothing… her eyes are steadfast as they explore his to determine his sincerity.

“What is up with you? I mean, sometimes I feel like your glass is always half empty. That no matter what good things we do or what progress we make, you are never satisfied, and you refuse to find reason to be happy.”

She takes in each word as they reverberate within. Now she is frustrated, wanting to shake the untoward feelings that have crept into their morning. “And I wish I could take that glass and shatter it against the wall… you’re right, sometimes I do feel that way and it drives me crazy!”

They look at one another as the words sink in. She is coy, still willing to be vulnerable, and still open to him. His mind races as the realization of what she’s telling him begins to set in. He begins to understand her reactions may not have been with the intent to stress the relationship, or to run from the discussion. She simply becomes agitated when things occur that incite her natural desire to protect her heart. She too is weighed down by the subtle yet debilitating effects of this perception.

His heart pounds as it longs to find the words to cause her to know that he does, indeed, understand.

“Go ahead,” he says, “Shatter it… and then, when you do, you can share mine.”

She stops in mid-stride. She sees it, and knows the truth that rings loudly in his words. He cares for her in ways that are both profound and relevant to her - where she is – in that moment. She knows just a little more that they will make it. She reaches over to touch his cheek, a smile flitting across her face. She pulls herself a bit closer to him.

He says nothing. He simply exists in the moment, knowing what is to come.

“That was most profound…” she says… “I will never forget that statement. Never… Thank you for being willing to give that to me…”

They both smile in understanding. They bring their bodies closer, knowing what is to come.

…and added to the choir of morning birdsongs is a duet of two people who share in love…