This morning, I felt it. I awoke with such emotion and vigor that I couldn't help but smile. As the sun illuminated the bedroom, everything became pristine; clear. It felt different. Even the air, the cool morning breeze, left goosebumps across my sun-kissed skin. The roses, although slightly wilted, seemed bigger and brighter. I realized I've been hiding; afraid to pinch myself as if my surroundings were actually that of a dream. I was afraid to believe; afraid that the glimmer of hope would fade.
There he laid, content within the depths of his dreams, oblivious of the music that streamed from the alarm. Possibly in protest; a silent refusal. As I watched the rise and fall of his masculine chest, I realized that I have never been happier. How often in life do fairy tales come true, I wondered, shifting the weight of my body.
My answer appeared moments later as he lovingly positioned his body close to mine. The fairy tale was not that of a glass slipper, a prick of the finger, or a long coma-like slumber. The fairy tale was an understanding; an awakening that gave me a sense of revival. I had been afraid, but he was there when I needed him to hold my hand.
Learning to trust...learning how to open my heart.
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| This photo was retrieved from "The Bottom of the Ironing Basket" |
Why this photo?
I was struck by the beautiful simplicity of this photograph...
Reflective
Peaceful
Assured.
{The fairytale...is the one you create.}
