Ian and Galene

Chapter 2: The Wakening

I pace back and forth on tiptoes, careful not to make a sound. I feel the dawn of a new day approaching, and I have not slept all night. How can you sleep when your world has been tilted sideways?

I watch Ian's face. The features were so lost in the darkness moments ago. Now the rising sun brings them to vibrant life. He sighs as he adjusts his position in bed, and my heart takes flight.

The last time I laid my eyes upon Ian... a single tear trickles down my cheek at this thought. Human life can be so cruel and uncaring. Yet Ian passed, living a long life while in my arms, embraced by love. His body was frail, yet his heart was whole and the glow in his eyes...

Centuries have passed, yet here he is, alive and sleeping in my bed. I couldn't sleep at all last night. I was so afraid he would be but a dream. I would wake, and he would be gone.

There were so many nights I wished he would be alive again. Nights were the loneliest. I missed his steady breath that floated through the air like the wind that gently shook the leaves. Calm whispers of life moving within the comforts of nature. He was my comfort. After his passing, it took so long to be whole again and for the memory of that sound of his steadfast breathe to dull.

I pad over to him and lightly touch his hair. My hand rests on the comforter beside his bare arm.

He takes a deep breath, and all the memories come flooding back into vivid technicolor reality. I watch him stretch his arms and take another deep breath. I smile. I know he will wake up any minute now.

    What should I do? Where should I be? We used to cuddle in bed together. We would wake up intertwined; always connected. Even when his bones ached with old age, he always wanted to sleep holding me and wake up touching me.

It was a warm summer night centuries ago when Ian was a ripe age of 83. Like so many night before, he wrapped his arms around me. He told me that he loved me. We fell asleep together, but we never woke up together. I woke up the next day to find his spirit gone.

My heart broke. His life was long and I could tell by the peaceful expression on his face that Thanatos must have carried his soul to the underworld. I am thankful for that, but the hole in my chest filled with infinite tightness... No one prepares you for the end, even when it is inevitable.

Now, I get a second chance. I get a second moment to live with Ian. I feel the tears trickle down my chin. I feel my heart swell, but behind it all, I feel the dull ache of reliving loss again.

Ian lets out a yawn and then a sleepy squeeze sound. I silently chuckle at his wake-up ritual that was so constant through the six decades we lived together. I reach out and place a hand on his chest.

A small smile crosses his lips. He places his hand on mine, and I lose it. Tears begin to stream down uncontrollably, but I keep my body still, fearing if I shatter now, it will end it all.

He brings my hand up to his lips and kisses it. Tears flow like rivers after a large storm. I hold my breath. He wakes. I see the light brown eyes land on mine, and I see me - his whole world- reflected in his very being. He smiles fondly at me.

"Good morning, Gale."

The words reverberate into being, and its sound is so pure. I shudder and let out a sob.

"Is everything okay?"

Concern creases on Ian's face, and my lips quickly find his. He tasted just like I remember. It was a sailors kiss filled with salt and sunlight.

"Well, good morning to you," replies Ian.

I throw my arms around him, and I feel him recoil back a bit.