A grey Saturday

My alarm goes off. I slowly open my eyes. Muted rays of sunshine filter through the closed curtains. I open them, looking out at the dark blue ocean.

A quick, happy “Good morning” message appears on my computer screen and I smile – he is amazing*

I pull on a leotard and tights, pull my hair back and fill up my water bottle.

Laughing with the girls, giggling over tales from the past week, teasing our choreographer... dying at the barre, gliding in the turns, soaring in the jumps... a small sense of freedom and weightlessness.

He picks me up. We walk the dog together, holding hands on the beach, snatching a kiss as we walk around the vlei, our sneakers crunching the dirt beneath.

Then we make a late brunch together, his arms around my waist, eggs frying in the pan, buttering toast, stirring coffee cups, squeezing fresh orange juice. We sit outside, smelling the lavender, feeling the contentment.

A lazy afternoon, working side-by-side, napping on the couch – being cradled in his arms is pure bliss.

Maybe a movie tonight, or we will bake – and he will grab me and we will waltz around the kitchen, laughing and spinning, falling down and smiling, one body..

.

But today, on this grey Saturday, I am alone, missing him more than words can express... but next Saturday, next Saturday, we will dance and walk, cook and eat, work and sleep, just be together...