Sacrilege, you say

What if this sound could bring you peace?via Nate Eul, Flickr

You wake up long before your alarm sets off, the one you love still asleep beside you. The room is half-lit, your favorite kind of place. The world is a half-reality that is there but does not quite reveal itself. It is understanding, gracious.

It is raining outside, purposefully packing away your obligations for the day. You wish you didn’t have anywhere else to be, and so you make plans to remain. You allow yourself to not exist.

The one you love shuffles beside you. Says they don’t remember falling asleep. Something whispers that you don’t remember falling in love, but you decide not to say it out loud. It is too quiet for loud recollections, still too sacred for memory to join you.

But memory joins you. The light awakens to try to blind you back into the fears and doubts you have been having for days, the chill fades into the dull hum of cars outside, the grey world finally intruding.

Your love has to leave.
Says thank you, says they love you.
Says nothing to your demons.

Leaves.

You let them, they have to. But the chill of the tranquil and the intimate leaves with them. It is suffocating, and the loving rain now means blocked pathways. Obligations unfold from their false hopes to announce that they have multiplied.

The world brightens. You do not greet it.

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