12 September, 2015
12:32 pm

It was the streaks of sunlight coming in from the window behind him that made me cry. Those streaks of sunlight that so gently caressed the side of his face, blinding me a little bit, making him look so breathtakingly beautiful that I could not but let the teardrops fall down my cheek and down the side of my nose. The dust surrounding us, dancing in the air, was visible in the sunlight. He probably said something sweet, asked me why I was crying. Kissed my nose and my forehead, called me silly. I put my hand on his cheek and reveled in the feeling of his scruffy beard under my palm.

That same night, in that same bed, he sang to me and I cried. Once again, I cried and I felt clean and I felt happy. Not “so happy I could cry” but “so happy, I do cry”.

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