Short Story: In The Mornings

I wake up, like every morning, and roll over to your side of the bed to drink in the lingering warmth that your body creates when you lie next to me. I feel the sunlight lightly kissing my skin because you, like every morning, open the curtains and windows to taste the new day when you get up. I hear you bustling about as you get ready for work; the hissing of the iron, the creaking of the floorboards, the sound of running water are all instruments that are used in the song that I listen to every morning.

I groan at the sound of the door closing behind you as you make your hurried way to the kitchen to fix yourself something to eat. At least I hope you are eating and not living on caffeine alone. I let the familiar guilt crawl its way into my stress-stricken body and drown me with the fact that I am a terrible person for not taking proper care of you and ensuring that you are well fed. What would your mother think? She already does not approve of me. Instead of getting up to check you are in fact eating solid food I lie here, in bed, wrapping myself with the huge blanket we are using as a duvet this summer to stop the cold from gnawing at my fingers and toes.

I hear the door slam again quickly followed by the sweet smell of freshly made coffee. You set my coffee filled Scooby Doo mug down on the bedside table along with a buttered bagel, lie down next to me and pull me into your ever so warm embrace. Just like you do every morning. I feel hot tears trickle down my face as, like every morning, you remind me of how much you love me. The way you stroke my hair sends ripple of calm throughout my body that eventually halts the tears. I fell your soft lips plant themselves on my forehead releasing bursts of hot spots all over my body. I am very aware that we do not have much time left before you have to leave so I free my mind from all other thoughts and savour these last few moments we have together before we join the daily grind of the working life.

On time, as always, we hear the alarm go off. You pry yourself out of my embrace and head out the door. As the front door closes and I hear you turn the key I sit up and reach for the cup of coffee you made me. After I take the first sip of liquid luck I can feel my insides latching onto every drop that makes it way into my tummy. I finish it and get out of bed to perform all my morning rituals- make the bed, do the washing up, set the table for dinner and finally hop into the shower.

I miss you already.

It is like this every morning. I am sure that I cannot be the only one that believes that mornings have a funny way of affecting the rest of your day more powerfully that other times of the day. You always starts mine off right. 

Once I have patted myself dry, lathered my skin with body lotion and put on my clothes, I sit on your side of the bed, munching on my bagel. Right there and then I make up my mind up my mind to try harder to make your mornings as special as you make mine. Although I am not even remotely a morning person, it is in the mornings that I truly value the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I will try not to bring work home tonight. And I think I will make Thai green curry for dinner, as you really like that. And I will also try to go to bed early. That way I can be well rested when I wake up earlier tomorrow to start your day with a kiss, a cup of coffee and breakfast in bed.

Just like you do for me every morning.