I could have been someoneI woke up with that song in my head. Maybe it's growing on me as I age and make mistakes and live far from home. Far from people who break into chorus and dance steps on a sticky wooden floor and far from the snowy wonderland of trying to drive cars uphill on ice and the ever-present conundrum of how to cook a turkey when the power's been out for hours.
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me
When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you
It upset me, that song and so I buried my face against Caleb's chest. He isn't awake yet. He tends to sleep until close to eight most days, though he will arrive in the kitchen showered and dressed, ready for the day almost at eight sharp before checking for coffee and any change in the stock market overnight.
His arms tighten around me and I squeak a little. My shoulder is sore from his teeth pressed against it, my arms weak from his hands holding them down and my legs ache mightily from being tense for hours. He wasn't traditionally rough but he still goes hard and I still need a little cautionary handling the next day as I move slower.
He's been romantic though. He had a fire in the fireplace and hot buttered rum drinks waiting when I arrived and he didn't put me up against the wall or pin to the bed by my neck. He was gentle and sweet and he said he wanted me to have my Christmas present early but a week is way too early and so he agreed to wait a little bit longer, and I agreed not to leave last night, to stick around and go to sleep and he found such comfort in that it made me want to cry. He's touched that I wear his ring every day, no matter what and not all that angry about PJ as he is learning to live in the main house and he's learning to put his temper away and that's nice too.
I always expect everything to be so temporary. He's nice today? Only a matter of time. I didn't cough all morning? I will tonight. The car started with no issues in the cold? What if it doesn't tomorrow?
(I'm never comfortable in my own skin, let alone in someone else's.)
It's not a matter of time. This is where I needed to be. He reassures me without trying to convince me. That's helping, too.
Something has to change, Diabhal.
It is, Neamhchiontach. It is.
Then can you help me get this song out of my head?
Let's try. He found his phone, hooked up to a neat little bluetooth speaker on the shelf and played Coldplay's Christmas Lights instead. And it worked on the first try.