Hope: W2,D2

My heart bubbles in my chest, spilling over. This is the moment I've been waiting for, the one I've been working towards for way too long. I take a deep breath and stretch my limbs as I allow my body to slowly wake up. The gentle energy filling my body speeds the process a little, and I imagine myself a loosely held bow, being drawn backwards into the tautness of the moment.

I find some clean underwear and dress impatiently, ending with a t-shirt, slung over my head and struggled into as I open the bedroom door. The dog follows me out, sniffing the air with her tail wagging, and my man is left snoring.

We talked about this moment last night, how good it would feel and how important it was to me, and I knew he understood. Still, a tiny piece of me couldn't help holding onto how forgetful he is; and the hope was punctured ever so slightly-- what if, that part threw in, like a spanner in a clock. What if he forgot again, what if this would be just another morning? Still, the bird of hope fluttered lightly inside my chest.

Feeling the momentousness of the occasion, I walked slowly, steadily; in fact, I almost crept my way through the morning household into the kitchen. There, I almost wept. He had remembered, and lo, the dishes were washed.