18,000 Nights

Last night I lay in bed, my feet mingled with Paul's and the covers tightly over us both. I stared at the outline of his bald head I could barely make out in the darkness of our cocoon, and gently traced my finger along his ear, careful not to wake him. I thought to myself that one day we will be separated, if not by life, then by death. Truly nothing is forever. I did what I always do when I think of this, I tried to count the nights we could have left. If I am lucky enough to make it to age 50, I would have another 24 years with Paul which sounds acceptable. Until I realize there are only 365 days in a year, which is not a big number. In just the last year absolutely nothing has really happened. Sure, my parents moved and Paul got a new job, but in the grand scheme of things this year was another tiny fraction of our kaleidoscope. So I think, well that would be about 18,000 nights left together, which again seems like a lot. Then I remember when I had this amazing 2 hour massage, I thought it would be so long and luxurious. While I was being rubbed down it seemed to go slowly, my mind even trailed off and lost focus on the intent for chunks of time. When the girl suddenly finished and I found myself outside in the crisp winter air, I could only think how quickly it had went, and how I should have absorbed each moment of that massage. After 18,000 nights will I suddenly find myself out in the cold? I cannot imagine a happiness without Paul, which probably sounds psychotic, unless you have found your soul mate too. Then maybe you lie awake at night, holding them a little too tightly, lashing out at any idea that may threaten the time Goddess grants you. The simple idea that he would be removed from my presence makes my heart lurch, a cold feeling creeps through my blood and gives me chills as I pull the blankets ever closer, almost like when you enter a haunted house and are waiting for the inevitable fears to be realized.

When I awoke this morning Paul was at work, and had left without a kiss good-bye. I feel loved that he is so secure he doesn't even consider that I wouldn't still be here every morning after, caring for his children while he works. I feel special that I am taken for granted, that I am so ingrained in his life I seem almost like a fixture attached to the walls of his soul. I am happy to go about my day, tending our home and babies. When he walks in the door I will no doubt rush to him and cover him in kisses, as I do almost every single night. I wont think about how many more nights we may have, I will only embrace this one and be grateful for what it holds.