Someone Like You | Sample

16

During university, I wondered what it would be like to sit on the sofa together and watch movies. I wondered what it would be like to hold hands without having a reason to. I wondered what it would be like to be willing to die for someone who was not the family your God had given you, but one that you had decided to give yourself. I wondered what it would be like to have a fight and who would be the one to first apologise. I even planned out ideas on how I would apologise if I were in the wrong. Would there be hand grabbing? Crying? Door slamming?

After all, people didn't always stay happy when they were in love, did they?

I wondered what it would be like to fall asleep in each other's arms. How it would feel like to wake up with my husband's arms protectively around me. How it would feel like to be loved by a man. A man I could hold and call my own. Until death would do us apart?

By the time University ended and I began working, I completely forgot about marriage altogether. There was a sharp progression from fascination to disillusionment. Priorities changed and so did goals. I didn't care for a companion. Marriage suddenly seemed something I could see myself being happy without. So did a husband. So did love. I began thinking about myself more. Self-love, self-care, the beauty around me, my small home, my small family, and my small world. I thought I was happy. And I was, I was content.

Then I met Isaac... and his quiet dad.

Right now, as I lie awake in the still dark room at the crack of dawn, while the birds outside begin to wake alongside the slowly rising sun, while the neighbourhood traffic slowly begins to buzz with movements to begin a new day, while the help downstairs begin to awake too, I don't know much about the other things — I also don't know much about being loved or having a husband but I sure can tell how it feels to wake up with a man's arm wrapped protectively around me.

It feels... warm.

While I lie on the king-sized bed on my back and stare at the ceiling above me slowly become more and more visible to me, I can't help but ignore the two boys snuggled around me.

At first, when I woke up, I was shocked. My frazzled, foggy brain rushed grasp the scattered remnants of last night's memory — and when everything began making sense, I felt a bit stupid for thinking we would be holding hands all night long.

In the slowly brightening room, I turn my head as much as I can and gaze at the sleeping man beside me. He looks beautiful even when he sleeps. His slightly swollen face only makes him look more like his son... a child. It's surprising just how child like someone can look while they sleep. It almost makes me want to reach out and slowly trace the soft planes of his face.

Then I slowly turn my gaze to the large warm arm wrapped around my naked waist and feel myself blush. My shirt must have ridden up during the night. For a second I wonder how I feel about this. About this sudden intimacy. Should I remove his hand? That would be the most decent thing to do, right? Would he feel awkward if he woke up and saw us like this? Would we never be able to talk to each other normally?

Oblivious to the storm in my mind, William sighs in his sleep and shifts. A gasp rips out of my lips when I feel his arm tightening around my waist, riding my shirt even more up in the process.

Aborting the thought of removing William's hand entirely, I turn my attention towards my right instead and smile when little Isaac shifts under his blanket too. Curling himself further into a fetal position, he continues to shove his bum into the side of my waist. Smiling at the sleeping little peanut, I reach to brush his hair away from his eyes when I decide that I should slip out of bed now.