It’s days like these
that I feel glad and sad about.
Bittersweet.
I’ve been so far away from normal
that normal feels special.
Days spent with friends,
Seeing how two people can love and support each other,
and fight
and pull their punches and disagree,
and then carry on, repair, like it’s a normal part of their day.
Because it is normal.
It should be normal.
And I grieve not having that.
I let my life become so insane
that normal doesn’t feel normal.
It doesn’t help that I have a writer’s heart and a reader’s eye.
I see every touch,
I note every look,
And every little interaction tells a story of love, of affection, of respect, of admiration.
A touch under the chin,
An “us against the world”,
An arm held in the other’s,
A gaze that lasts an eternity in seconds.
There’s trust.
There’s space held for each other
whether it’s good behaviour or bad.
There’s a “here, let me”
and a “hey, play with me”
and all the bids to get attention that get answered.
Even the pinching and smacking and biting and swearing and curses that erupt in playful anger are part of love.
It’s something I sadly haven’t seen,
Love without resentment or dismissals or selfish decisions that would only hurt.
This is love that is sweet and gentle,
attentive and affectionate,
playful and witty.
This is love that is open and trusting and true.
This is love,
and for so many people,
this is an ordinary day.
💖🌧️
Image of a couple silhouetted by the night sky full of stars by 1866946 from Pixabay.
Little moments, happening every day.
