I sat there. Laid there. Lounged there.  Woolen blanket pulled to my chin, tucked under my chin, wrapped around my hands.  In the darkness and night I glanced to my left and watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall.  My mind began to race and, in turn, my heart.  My thoughts were floating, circling, fleeting, changing.  These were caged thoughts, locked and secure — I couldn’t seem to open my mouth and set them free.  The bridge between what I was thinking and what I wanted to say, was seemingly under repair.

I let the music encircle and engulf, not anxious to interrupt the silence with my questions, confessions, or gentle exclamations.  I cast my glance forward out into the night sky, orange and yet grey, dark and yet light.  The trees danced in the wind, the cold, vicious air causing them to sway and turn, rooted in their strength.  I willed myself to quiet my mind, to let go of this desire I had for answers, for clarification.  I kept looking for the moment where I could feel the time for words had passed, and at the opposite end, the moment where words would make sense.

I wanted to inquire whether it should be strange that I felt so at peace in a situation that we’d never been in before.  I wanted to ask why it felt so quietly fine to just be in that moment.

But more than these questions or the desire for answers, I simply wanted to be.  I simply wanted to be….and so it was.