Another Day (Every Day 2)

His body answers for

him. I can feel the tension fall away. I can feel my welcome.

“I set an alarm,” I say. “So we can sleep.”

I roll over, and he presses his chest against my back, echoes his legs behind my legs. Gathering into a pocket of time, and refusing to leave it. Together, our bodies cool. Together, our breathing slows. Together, we feel unalone.

Our bodies can fit in so many different ways.

—

The current of sleep carries us at different wavelengths. Sometimes I wake and he’s asleep. Sometimes he must be the woken one. And other times, our wakefulness coincides, and we have brief conversations as we remain holding on.

—

“Are you he or she?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies.

—

“I know we don’t talk about it,” he says, many minutes, maybe hours, later. “But why are you with him?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I used to think I did. But I don’t know anymore.”

—

“Is this love?” I ask. But he’s asleep.

—

He mumbles something. It sounds like, “Is your uncle Artie tall?”

—

When we are both more awake, but still without any desire to move from the bed, I face him and ask, “Who was your favorite?”

He puts his hand on mine. “My favorite?”

“Your favorite body. Your favorite life.”

“I was once in the body of a blind girl. When I was eleven. Maybe twelve. I don’t know if she was my favorite, but I learned more from being her for a day than I’d learn from most people over a year. It showed me how arbitrary and individual it is, the way we experience the world. Not just that the other senses were sharper. But that we find ways to navigate the world as it is presented to us. For me, it was this huge challenge. But for her, it was just life.”

“Close your eyes,” I whisper.

I trust that he does. We feel each other’s bodies as if we’re in the dark.

—

Hours later, or maybe it’s minutes, the alarm goes off.

—

The day is passing, and we let it. The light is fading, and we say nothing as it goes. This is all we want. Two bodies in a bed. Closeness.

—

“I know you have to leave,” I say. My eyes are closed. I feel him nod.