Ready.

I awake in a familiar, uneasy state. It is my normal. When I see her face, I am brought back down. I remember everything we said and everything we did and I am at peace.

I think, “There is something different about her,” then I squash that cliche and I move to, “There is something I don’t understand about her.” Although a bit more melancholy, I find–to me–this suits her more.

I hold her a few minutes longer before quietly detaching myself from body and bed. I slip my pants on and wander out of the room, ready to investigate the morning.

Before I leave, I make coffee, enough for two, three cups for her, one for me. I rest the thermal carafe on her end table with a cup and a post-it which, while crudely drawn, I hope makes her smile.

I sneak out without waking her, turning to take her in one last time before disappearing into the biting coolness of winter.

https://gm1.ggpht.com/X8shSWBZtRnWMF8GhmiCbnddjQuBPbaTrsTfztuA78_SnSkH8fTBwkev865Roc6dC4LXEKX7_ZREmp9amLqAgFRuxIkqHAsynGaAohswFUpbkVPtm6xki1465VeW_LB3flY63Wxt30iA27EGgPOYdMlntmaTl2m37GGeS2CrVYJrom8RpA5Ow1gDDpBgVn17toUE-wd781hSgddj0TjgsDmfhLX8QzSv1fbEm88rmaJiOL9yxwfy5J0fKanwJh_cpfXStTR_Hl1oOn4FYC6AGpyNuP0NgnuxHwJNsW3aLE6QdlCOj4fvtkxiOaZ2ZptCSSiadmCYneNel6wREPWwak1Ldir7TkbKt5raeW5X6Od4W0IHTIirvZgNwtM9hxFMGUTWhZa6spzfz4OM4rSLwMzaWUytBgbcfhyigjyErJUOwBFBS9ClZO7OgQWeFE_whq1tKAkBIoSPL47pOnskbt4ophsRpkQITNqpcXjwrpJVflffBnHkuRNzCLp8-df6eqzSxEWFSxkygrpLlTryBnedv-ysbaAA9Ofvuh0y3EYFO93gfm1HoBAMtYt5Krz-G98O5CdG2qap2Sv7u3rTGu5ZPz8hmBOGbss-TsQDrWvLzD9-3tQLN23kvQOMS8Q45-o8r4upOOt9OZNZzEizxfBL31Uxw_fTP4tZSUIB0yjCz0-6lQtHbowqwdTzF2rdNPf46WKgbgKvZYpw0PtYdnRh=s0-l75-ft-l75-ft

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