Woven

I am subject to a very queer feeling, now and again, especially lately. I wonder, do my constant daydreams of you strengthen this effect? Do my musings about our possible futures together cause these strange phantom sensations?

I told you about the other night; told you about waking and reaching for you. That still shakes me, as we've never spent the night together. My body shouldn't rightly have a memory of waking and reaching for you. I should not have had such a strong realization of you next to me, of your scent, of your warmth, of every indicator of the essence of you.

Today, fully awake and bustling around the kitchen, I had another illusion of you. I was making breakfast, listening to music, trying yet again to pull my too loose pajama pants back where they should be, and I reached for the refrigerator door. With my hand wrapped around the handle, I had this illusion, thought, memory, (memory?!) of you seated behind me at that fantastic expanse of marble island. An idea of you sitting and talking with me when I almost burnt the toast, while I let the pan get too hot to cook the eggs properly.

This has become a regular occurrence in the last few days. Engaged in ordinary, everyday tasks I have the feeling (and it is a feeling!) of you beside me, with me.

I have such a queer feeling that we were meant for each other. Don't scoff. I have the distinct feeling that you are tangled in every one of the possible futures life has laid out. Like you are a woven thread in the spiderweb roadmap of my existence. No matter the life choices I make, the life choices you make; I feel our threads are entangled, wrapped around each other, braided. Yes, braided. Two threads braided together only produce a stronger thread. Plucked individually we sound distinct notes, but woven together and plucked...the new vibrations are boundless.

I love the music we're making already.