The random thoughts of an architect-turned- lawyer from the deep south living in Washington, DC...
Sunday, January 15, 2006
She's back in the nook, but he isn't Mr. BigShe lies there, nestled in the nook. Everything feels so right. The world around does not exist. Her head rests comfortably on his strong arm, an arm that wraps her in a blanket of protection. Their bodies rise and lower in harmony with each breath. The fit together so perfectly. They both lie there, awake, feeling so right in each others arms. Neither want this moment to end. No words are spoken. None need to be spoken. In the nook, she just feels so at home.
She knows though. She knows this is some false reality. She knows that outside of these moments this will never work. The way in which she is nestled does not provide a good angle in which she can see his face. This is for the best. If she looks at him, she will see that he is not the one. She knows that he is not everything she dreams of; that she is deserving of much more. She knows all of these things, but she is just not ready to face them.
So she lies there feeling needed, comfortable, safe. She doesn't want to move. Even though he may not be Mr. Big, he is Mr. 'right here' and he does tuck away her pangs of lonliness to replace them with feeling desired. She lies there, struggling to muster the energy to move. Just like snoozing an alarm clock, she knows she should get up, but she's just too comfortable. She will never recapture the time she knows that she is wasting. Right now, though, right now that doesn't matter. She wants to hang on to every last moment in the comfort of the nook.