He wakes up from a splitting headache. The bedside clock shows 3am. The night is as still as the sea. It’s as if one would wake up a sleeping baby if you breathe a little louder.
The headache is from the cheap red wine he had with her last night.
"We are cheap drunks," she says as she pours the wine like a craftsman at work. "But I prefer drinking straight from the bottle," he thinks as he watch her take a sip of it. They had gone out for a couple of drinks after work.
Their conversation on society, culture, politics, religion, humanity, arts, ideas, beliefs and literature always excites him way too much.
He has seen her for the last two decades yet it makes him anxious to see her again. Beads of sweat appears on his forehead at the thought of seeing her again. Being with her is talking excitedly about his passion. She challenges his thoughts, dreams and excites his soul.
He still cannot fathom what it is with her. Is it the way she perceives the world? The way she tries to express about a thing? The way she puts it, ever so articulately? Those dreamy eyes and her porcelain skin. He can never get over it, he thinks as he listen to her describe the outline of the book she’s planning on writing.
At times he thinks she is the strongest woman he has ever known. Invincible! No force on earth can subdue her. Yet when he look deep into her eyes, he’s convinced that there’s a fragile child deep inside whom he wants to protect and seal her forever in the tablet of his heart.
Conversations with her always surrounds on books, writings and philosophy.
The mundanes of life ; growing up, going to college, getting married by 25, making babies, saving for the old age and finally leaving this planet seems things of another life. There’s stillness of time when with her.
Adele’s ‘Hello from the other side...’ is heard softly in the car’s stereo.
How can one be so satisfied this one moment? He often thinks. Yet when he is with her on that spot overlooking the valley in the distant city lights, away from the humdrum existence of life, this is what it should feel like, when I breathe my last, he thinks as he stare at her lips and hands talking about the surrealism of life.