Merci

It’s 9AM. The alarm is punctual. It buzzes and ends my fuzzy dreams. I search for the snooze button. I reach it. I look for you on the bed. I cannot find your shoulder, your lips, the smell of your body. Reluctantly I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling, while scanning my mind for your memories. I am lucky, there are plenty of them to fill up the space. The dirty ceiling of that cheap hotel is suddenly filled by the immensity of your blue eyes.

The alarm plays again. I repeat the movement of silencing it; now and then, few times. I resist leaving the bed. The half-sleep image of your eyes is by far a more pleasant sentiment. Eventually, the relentless alarm convinces me to move my body away from the bed. That linen, that mattress, that pillow, do not contain any of your fragrance, which helps me to get up.

I finish packing my small bag. I leave my camera outside. The millions of pixels containing your smile should suffice to comfort me until the next destination, until I can touch the real thing again.

In the back of my mind one question only: “When are you coming for dinner?”

Slow food, slow love, whatever time it takes… I feel like telling you a million words, if you could listen to tem, but I decide for one only: “Merci”.