So it’s currently 3:12am, I went to bed at 12:00am. The darkness of this room cannot ease my restless mind, the gradual, predictable, annoyance of ticking from my wall clock does no justice to the buzzing that’s going on in my head. I was hoping to get some shut-eye before being rudely awakened by my alarm at 6:00am, but the vision of waking up at some (normally) non-ridiculous time of 8:00am (and miss his flight arriving) haunts me. And thus, my mind does the opposite of sleeping and insists I stay awake through the whole ordeal.
Trust me, I tried falling back into peaceful sleep. Covered in the warmth of these blankets, but everytime I do, I see him. In my minds eye, it happens over and over. A Groundhog Day of a memory, his incredible face, the smile of an angel, the rapid and urgent rattle of suitcase against tile, awkward strides closing the meagre space that keeps us apart.
Then, the warmth that spreads from his arms around me, as I find the space where my face fits onto the crook of his neck.
We stay there, we remain like that. In eachother’s arms. Obvilious to everyone’s glares or glances. I can’t let him go, I feel the heat and sweat on my own skin spread. I don’t care, in that moment I never want it to end.
It’s all in the struggle of the long distance relationship.
I’ve known him for a little over 7 months, the first time I met him was April this year, when I travelled to Auckland for 5 days in the break of my University mid semester (I was supposed to be studying, hah)
And those magical 5 days went much too quickly, as soon as I had arrived it seemed as if I was headed homebound.
Time does no favours, nor makes considerations for need or want.
He simply sits at his grand table, observing the world through dark spectacles. Countless souls ask for it to speed up, slow down for more or less. But, like a tight lipped pensioner, he is stoic to the pleas; hording the time he has at his disposal. Time is time, or it is up. There is no fast forward or rewind.
So in the silence of this night, I gingerly wait. Wait for the sun to make his gradual dance across the sky and at the first notion of daylight, I’ll be a vassal to the rushing of my own heartbeat. Soon the world will wake, and the kookaburras will laugh at the silliness of their song. The lorikeets’ call will fill the dawn with vibrance whilst the magpie’s melody will provide the body and form of an incredible few weeks to come.