I spent the predawn hours in my underwear, lying on his bed, looking up at the motionless ceiling fan and watching my thoughts go from here to there and back again, smiling. They're pretty, the stories we can tell ourselves - the conclusions we can come to.
I kept wanting to hop up, jump up and down on the bed, twirl the blades of the ceiling fan, and burst out singing "Walking on Sunshine." I wanted to laugh!
I listened to him breathe and I listened as he snored. I kept wanting to put my fingers in his hair or rub his back, but I didn't want to wake him up, so I resisted the temptation - more than once. Instead, I kept still and basked.
I don't know him well but he makes me smile. We hung out, hooked up a time or two over a year ago. I found myself in his apartment again last night. He has a roommate now that I have yet to meet. His walls have been repainted.
Last year, when we got together, I wondered if he liked me. I wondered where things were headed. This year, I don't give a crap. Not in the hopeless sort of way, but with the peace that comes from knowing that the future is none of my business. My job is to remember the gift is here and now - not in some potential future.
My gift was in the touching and in his warmth. My gift was simply seeing him again. My gift was the time I had alone with my thoughts in the early morning. My gift was trying to keep from laughing - which of course, always makes things seem funnier! My gift was in the basking.