Sometimes at night, when I lay perfectly still, the wheels in my brain stop spinning. The incessant and ever-present buzzing in my mind takes a pause. Instead of a million thoughts racing around, bouncing off of each other, crashing, and colliding, there is peace.
I become hyper aware of my breathing. My lungs swell and my chest rises, my lungs deflate, my chest falls. Air streams into my nose and swirls ever so softly inside of it. I feel a burst of coolness before it leaves to return to the outside. This repeats over and over and over again. Rhythmic... Even... Stable...
Gradually my body gets heavier, but I acclimate to its weight in the most effortless way. My bones settle quietly within my skin as I slowly melt into my bed. I sink into the mattress almost as if I was meant to be part of it my entire life. I grow roots into where I lie.
My mind is finally calm enough, my breathing steady enough, body still enough, to feel Blake. Although tears well up and leak out through the bottom of my shut eyelids, I am not sad. I am not only happy, but complete.
Sometimes I see Blake and sometimes I just hear his voice. But the way he looks or the things he says are never the important parts of this experience. The most spiritual, emotional, moving piece is how my heart feels. In those brief, but incredible moments there is no hole inside of it. The constant ache that has become as much a part of me as the blood that flows through my veins, disappears. I am who I am, but bigger, myself, but stronger, me, but absolutely and positively whole.
He leaves me, but his kiss lingers on my lips. Although goose bumps cover every inch of my skin, I am the farthest thing from cold. The warmth of his embrace cloaks me like a security blanket. The ripples in the sound waves he caused with his voice act as a soothing lullaby. I drift comfortably into sleep knowing that's where he's waiting for me.