Diaries of an Invisible Woman (I)

I wake up at dawn and look around trying to remember where I am. The hall in your house is modernly furnished with a masculine touch. The only piece I like is this huge dark red sofa that I made my bed since I decided to inhabit your house. I roam around bare-footed and softly open the door to your bedroom. I slide inside to find you still sound asleep. I lay on the floor before the huge window overlooking a dazzling scene of that ancient river. I silently sigh while watching the first baby rays of the sun. I tremble when the young rays creep over my cold, still body.

I hear your alarm clock ringing so I lift my body and draw closer to your bed. You start moving and you stretch your hand to silence the annoying alarm. With closed eyes, you push the quilt away and stand up stretching to wipe the last traces of sleep off your body. You grab a towel and enter the bathroom. I slide into your bed, close my eyes and wipe my cheek to your pillow feeling the warmth of your body still there.

You open the bathroom door abruptly murmuring: "soap, soap, soap!" Then you head for the kitchen to get a bar of soap. I smile and watch you with amusement. On your way back you unwrap the soap with yet sleepy fingers and get back to the bathroom. I leave your bed and head for the hall knowing that in a minute you will return to your room to get dressed. I blush while watching the ripe rays of the sun. After 20 minutes of waiting, you go out of your room in a beige suit, light blue shirt and shiny brown shoes with your laptop bag hung over your strong shoulder. "No time for coffee!" I hear you say it and I smile because we have the same habit of talking to ourselves. You grab your keys and open the door to go out when you remember that you do not have your cell phone so you return to your bedroom as I slide off the open door and wait for you outside.

What I like about your office is that it overlooks a nice, small park. Your secretary enters the room with a mug of black coffee and puts it on your desk. You start discussing today?s schedule with an active tone. I could not help noticing how tight her clothes are. A wave of jealousy wipes me off but I am comforted by your indifferent, professional look you direct towards her. She leaves and you start looking at your laptop screen taking sips from your coffee.

I sit on the far tip of your desk and think why I love you. Such a hard question?! What I love about you is an easier one. I love you more with every slow blink from your smiling eyes. I love you when you scratch your nose when you think deeply about something. I love you when you talk to your colleagues in a decisive tone showing that you accept no compromises at work. I love you more when you wrap your slim fingers around your coffee mug in a cold winter morning, close your eyes, and enjoy the moment of warmth it gives you. What I love the most about you is your stray look that you send over the murmuring surface of the river or to the vast, compassionate sky? looking for something ... or someone. Are you looking for me? I can never know. All that I can tell is that when you want me strong enough, you will find me inside you, and see me before you.

After 10 hours of work; calls, meetings, and more and more of black coffee, you collect your stuff and head for your home. "Home sweet home" I think of it to find you uttering the words. I am not surprised as we usually think of the same thing in the same time. You take off your jacket, shoes and glasses and head for the kitchen. I put on the glasses, look in the mirror, cross my eyes and silently giggle. I definitely look funny in your tiny glasses.

After 30 minutes of dining and changing clothes, you slip into your bed and sleep in 5 minutes. I draw closer listening to your steady breath and remove that hair off your wide forehead. I look at your hands and cannot help gently touching them with mine. How warm your hands are. I entangle my fingers in yours softly lest you should wake up. I cover you well with the soft quilt while looking at your peaceful face. I kiss your fingertips whispering: "Bonne nuit, mon amour."



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