I’ve been asleep in a room where the windows encompass you in a full circle, open wide and airy out onto the world, far below. Where the balmy winds rush through from one side to another, slowing briefly over the bundle of sheets above our bodies. The only sound for miles is that of the afternoon showers, heavy and steady yet gentle as a dove. The bleached, washed out white is the only color besides the pale, naked skin on the bed. It’s the only color that matters. It is pure. As I awaken, the nudes and whites have been replaced by the crimson glow of a sunset from the heavens. Somewhere in the midst of the afternoon, the rain washed out all of our anxiety and stress, leaving behind the sound of twilight. We’re sharing this world with the animals in the trees and the birds in the distance. We’re sharing this moment with every single person down below, unaware of us, of our view of this same, exact moment.
How impossible is it to bring that same sensation back to reality? You can’t package it up, tie a bow on top and ship it back home to wait until you get off the airplane. We shouldn’t try to replace it- it stays in our memories, back in Costa Rica, back in our honeymoon. We should strive to find the same raw, romantic, irreplaceable moments in our every day. We will find it in the unmade bed surrounded by dirty socks and sweaty gym shirts. It is there, hidden behind “normal”.