I wake up in my own bed in a room that should be familiar to me. But that's the problem with "should," isn't it? You never use that word when the condition is met. I look around at all the colors I was never able to see before. All of the timelines swirling around me. The shape of everything is new. There is a new dimension to them that I can't quite describe, but that dimension is definitely not time. Time is the thing that is flowing around me.
I get out of bed, but my feet don't touch the ground when my back leaves the mattress. I look down and take notice of the distance. It is a curious thing. It's as though I have forgotten how to interact with reality itself. This must truly be it, then! I fly to the nearest mirror and stop right before it. I admire my new color, my new shape. The new figure before me is truly a beauty; perfectly tailored for Bill, but it's still me. My small fingers touch the reflective glass. Bill will be thrilled when he sees this.
Bill. I'm not sure if I have the courage to see him in this new form. What if he hates it? What if he wants the mortal Dove back? I shake myself out of it. I know Bill's love is true. It is as certain as the very present. So I go to my door and try to open it. I phase right through instead. I float in the hallway for a minute. Once I have my bearings back, I go to where I guess Bill would be: the kitchen.
And there he is, in the flesh form he decided to stay in for my sake. He is reading through some papers, though my poor love has a clear look of distress on his face. Bill perks up when he senses a presence and looks over at me with a shocked grin. Oh no- he hates it! I shrink back a little bit.
"My oh my! What is this beauty I see?" Bill stands up. He walks to my smaller form and crouches down in front of me. He stares right into my eye(s). "Ah-ha! I'm just kidding! I know it's you, Dove! The new form suits you well." Bill snaps his fingers, and in a ring of blue flame, becomes an excited little golden triangle. He clinks one of his sides up against one of mine. We fit perfectly.
"Uh- What are you doing?" I ask. Both confusion and amusement flood my very being. It's not bad, but it's certainly something unexpected.
"You got so much to learn, kid!" Bill chippers on, "You have no idea how long I waited to stick my side up against you."
"At least that sounds normal," I say. It's probably best not to question it any further. Let Bill have his moment. After all, with whatever he is doing, he seems happy doing it with me. So if Bill wants to do his strange touching sides thing, then touch sides we shall. Who am I to deny my husband an odd joy when we have been separated for so long?
(Note: Sorry it's so short. I couldn't think of anything else, and found that last line to be perfect. But hey, at least there's an ending. :))