The first light is long before the dawn. The glow of your cell phone rouses me. I watch it brighten beside you as you doze peacefully. You don’t stir until the sound begins.
You roll over and quickly turn off the alarm. With a sigh you pull yourself up to sitting and scroll through a screen or two. And just like that, you are ready to start your day.
In a moment you will head downstairs to make yourself coffee and start your shower. You’ve already thoughtfully laid out your clothes in your office so you don’t wake me fumbling in the bedroom in the dark. You’ll make your lunch and pack your briefcase and drive off to work before the sun begins to peek over the horizon.
But before you do any of that, you slide out of bed and feel your way over to my side. You pat around in search of the lump burrowed under the covers. And very gently, you kiss my head.
Somewhere under the comforter pulled up to my ear, I smile.
Every morning you kiss my head before heading downstairs. Every morning I cherish that you perform this ritual thinking I’m asleep and unaware of the gesture.
I’m so glad you’re writing again.
Well, I’ve got a couple more months until I never have time to myself ever again, right?
I hop out of bed early and go right to work. My husband says I’m an ass for not cuddling with him, but if he wakes up, then I won’t get any work done.
I’m impressed you can jump right into your day like that. For me waking up is a long and gradual process. Your husband would actually prefer you wake him up? Does he hate sleep?