Warmth radiates up to the tips of my fingers as I reach down to touch the soft silkiness that has dripped out between the buttery browned sourdough bread. Proof that I am still cherished and loved.
I left this morning without seeing you. When the alarm startled me from a deep slumber I rapidly stifled the bell so it would not disturb the lump huddled under the pile of blankets and pillows beneath the cat. I crawled out of the dark room as if newly born and started the morning ritual of cat tripping, hair washing and lunch preparations.
Coffee brewed and your lunch box filled with ham and swiss love and apple slices, I let the dogs out for a run and peeked back into our room. Still dark, the faint hum of dream snoring let me know you were there. Then off to work.
The day was long and achey. When finally we bumped into one another again, after thirteen hours of missed calls and unanswered text messages, I spewed news from the day out in a continuous stream while you buttered bread, heated a skillet and unwrapped slices of muenster cheese.
When you handed me the perfectly grilled cheese sandwich and neatly folded napkin I knew you still cherished and loved me. I will do the dishes, my hero.