Even three years down, some times, I have to stop to pinch myself. As a reminder, that some of the events that transpire are not wholly concocted by my hyper-active imagination. That it is in fact real life. Really happening. In the flesh.
I have to some times remind myself that, even when I wake up on a Sunday morning with absolutely no plans whatsoever, it is not impossible to soon find myself in a little spot of sunlight, beneath a canopy of drying vines, with a spicy chai between my palms, and a book with its pages fluttering, placed in my lap. Maybe a cat will make itself at home by my feet, maybe I’ll look up at the end of the chapter, and see the beaming smile of a woman with blonde dreadlocks down to her waist, greet me from across the table.
It is entirely possible that I will then spend the next few hours lazily lounging around, legs outstretched before me, hungrily finishing my book, only pausing to sip the third cup of chai or to dodge a bumble bee that darts towards my face.
And somewhere in the course of the day, it might probably dawn on me that it is in fact completely possible to spend a whole day with a friend, in near-silence. Without hanging out. Without the constant chatter, banter and incessant communication. That it is in fact completely possible to enjoy a whole day together, in peace. Him with his book, me with mine.
Maybe somewhere, I will lose track of time and suddenly realise how my morning has turned around, and how I am so far removed from the lazy day I envisaged for myself. I might sit back and smile to myself, chuffed. Because it is a good feeling to know that just three hours after I woke up even on a Sunday with no plans whatsoever, it is not at all unusual to find myself in place like this.
Completely normal. Completely possible. Completely at home.
Some times, even after all these months, I have to pinch myself. As a reminder to savour the little pleasures. The short drive to the beach, to escape the lull of routine. A a dip in the sea to refresh my summer-scalded body. The joy of wearing shorts and putting my feet up at a cafe. Of having a cat amble by, reach out and tickle it. And to continue to sit around for hours without the unspoken pressure to buy copious amounts of food and drink, but with the liberty to chill out with a book, not leave until it is done.
Some times, I stop and pinch myself. When the many little events of our every day life wane grey and meld into one, as they become passe. Part of life. Every day life as I know it, this is my way to remind myself to wake up and smell the summer sunshine. I have to pinch myself to remember that this is real life. In the flesh. That the universe did good, when it conspired to put us here, now.