“I’m just witchy like that,” I tell you.
It’s an indescribable feeling. In only a moment, a wash rolls over my body and I am infused with a knowing. Most wouldn’t even notice that it happened to me. Often escaping my body as a sigh or a shiver, I just know that something has shifted.
We are sitting at the kitchen table, the cribbage board between us. We are at ease together, you and I. It’s the most comfortable either of us has been with another. Facing you, my guard is down and my leg is up, toes tucked slightly under your thigh. We are connected and laughing, one hundred percent present on this beautiful Saturday evening.
My guard is down; I’m an open target.
You see the shift in that one instant. In the time it took for me to sigh, you could see that something was moving behind my eyes. They are, after all, a mirror to what we carry.
In that moment, a quiet wave washed over me and my sadness was comforted. In that one sigh, a sense of clarity washed over me and I accepted what was before me. In that one moment, I was reassured that I can handle it.
I know that I will be okay.
In that one moment, a clear message was placed inside my heart: spend time and make memories.
You asked what I was thinking about. I imagine you didn't expect that response! I’m witchy like that, I tell you. This happens sometimes, always has. We talk about it and carry on with our game.
We play out the next hand—the final hand of the game. We lay our cards down, realizing that our cards are identical. We each have two kings and two fives. A secondary wave confirms the quiet coincidence of the first.
I tear up a little.
Hello, my tiny love.
