Finding each other again

As we pulled into the driveway returning from his work, Bowie made a  beeline to the couch. I still had my heels on and wanted a hug.

“Come here," I beckoned.

“Why?” he asked.

“Get up and come here,” I said, turning on my bossy pants with a smile.

“Okay, okay, what’s up?”

“I want a hug while I still have my heels on,” I laughed. “Makes it easier to reach you,” I added. Bowie smiled and wrapped his arms around me and I found myself sinking into him. Our embrace had to have lasted two minutes, maybe longer. I could feel his heart beat against my chest as he rested his chin on my shoulder. He pulled back slightly, with his arms tightly wrapped around my waist as he stared down at me. Our eyes locked and we stood there for a moment. He then leaned in and kissed me softly. The first kiss in half a year.

“Did you smudge my glasses?” he joked.

“No, but I can,” I said smiling. He kissed me again gently. This was our first real connection after so many months. He let go. I slipped off my heels and settled onto the couch. He grabbed his guitar and sat at the corner of the couch to play. I just watched him, his fingers glided effortlessly across the strings. He often looked up, smiling at me while he played. I got cozy in my blanket and listened to him sing. These were the moments that mattered. The calm. The small things that made me smile. 

Later that night, we crawled into bed. I was just about to sleep following the show we finished up watching, when I felt hands reach for me in the darkness. Bowie’s lips had found mine. Of course we had our minor banter as usual. He kissed me, and as I was about to speak, he kissed me again, then again and his hand wrapped around the back of my head, grasping my hair between his fingers and pulling me closer to him. I could feel the rush inside me like old times and he brought my body closer to his. We continued for some time. We stayed wrapped in one another, reconnecting with a gentleness that felt both familiar and new. He moved slowly and deliberately, as though neither of us wanted to rush the moment.

As we laid back down, I whispered, “thank you for making me feel human.” This was an area where I longed for touch after cancer. I needed to feel alive again and I think on some level he needed to as well. 

He responded with, “thank you for making me feel human too.” 

We had both carried so much grief, heartache, and uncertainty. Although we were still living in the limbo we called "the in-between," allowing ourselves to reconnect in that quiet, unspoken way felt surreal. For the first time in a long time, we weren't trying to solve the future. We were simply present with each other.