I have cried and laughed this morning, all before 9am.
When the cats started to climb on me, I reached over in the dark to find my phone to check the time. It was before 6am and my alarm but I checked my email anyway while Dash perched like a purring hat upon my head. In my in box was an email from someone I did not expect to hear from ever again and a rush of feeling flooded me.
I snuggled up to Mr. Darcy waking him and we talked about the email. This is no small thing- the email and the fact that Mr. Darcy was speaking before 8am (he’d prefer 11am, maybe noon) and that I am seeking comfort in someone. It’s something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately and discussing in therapy- how I comfort myself. I realized that for years I’ve relied solely on myself and it’s been isolating. It’s a big stretch for me to let Mr. Darcy provide that kind of support. He wants to, of course, but I’ve been the barrier. Me and the one thousand guards standing at attention around my heart. It feels good and also foreign to attempt to open the gates but I am trying for me . . . and for him.
And then when Mr. Darcy got up to go to the bathroom, he ripped a fart. I started laughing and said “Woah!” to which he replied, “I stepped on a duck.”
It did sound a lot like a quack.
Later, after I had done my morning routine of yoga, meditation, tea, showering, I woke up Mr. Sleepyface because he was going to be late for work if he didn’t hustle. When he got out of the bathroom he said, “YOU LEFT ME POO!” Uh. Oops! I give him shit (pun intended) a lot about not flushing saying things like “THERE IS A FLOATER!” This time I was the culprit. I replied, “Don’t you feel closer to me now?” I’m pretty sure he said he could have done without it. We laughed and made poo jokes.
Ah, cohabitation. Ah, love. Ah, life. You are good.
“So cry, why not?/We all do./Then turn to the one you love./And smile a smile that lights up all the room./And follow your dreams, /in through every out-door. /It seems that’s what we’re here for./In days to come, /When your heart feels undone/May you always find an open hand./And take comfort, there is comfort./Take comfort wherever you can, you can, you can.” -“Comfort,” Deb Talan
*Joni Mitchell, “People’s Parties”