I am so thankful my brain and creative juices seem to be in cahoots lately because there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t been able to come up with something when I have no prompts awaiting me from others. I think soon I might start to try and zoom in my focus and work on prompts or pieces or development of characters or story plots that relate to my NaNoWriMo novel. It’s great that I am writing daily, and that it has yet to feel like a chore, but it’d be even better if I could apply some attention towards that content so when November 1st approaches I am ready to dive in and get to work. For now though, I’ll keep on with the brain wandering.
A really delicious plate of food sits in front of me, and I know Ben put a lot of effort into it, but all I can do is sit and push it around. Today was a text book “day-from-hell” with printers breaking and customers screaming at staff who then called me and then I got screamed at. Nothing seemed to go right, and after eight hours of that the only thing that sounds appealing is your bed.
But Ben was so excited about the new recipe he had tried and he has the most insane puppy dog eyes it’s not even fair. His eyes are already big and brown but when he furrows his brow just so, and his bottom lip sticks out just a hair more than his top…it’s criminal really. Plus Ben’s food is always good. Always. He is a sought after chef for a reason and I never tire of getting to come home to that.
It’s just that my mood is shitty and my body is tired so while I want to tell him how whatever sauce he drizzled over this steak is divine and that the asparagus is insane, it’s like and act of congress to just function like a normal person. I know he can sense my bad mood, after his third question about things he shut down a little. In fact a moment or so ago he took his empty plate and went into the kitchen, I can hear him messing around and mumbling to himself.
Which is why when the notes of ‘My Girl’ start to play through the apartment it completely takes me my surprise. I shoot my head up and through the small window between our kitchen and dinning spot I can see Ben bent over smiling at me. As exhausted as I am I can’t fight the instinctive smile that comes automatically. With that he pops out from the kitchen and walks right up to me with his hand extended to me.
There’s a majority of me that wants to fight him, the idea of getting up on my feet and demanding more of them than I already have today seems impossible. But Ben only busts out my oldies playlist when I am really grouchy or sad, knew knows that it can cure almost anything I am battling. Which means I last all of a few seconds before my hand is gently putting my fork down and is sliding into his own.
He pulls me close and I let out a small scream that turns into a laugh as I stifle in his chest. His other arm winds around my waist like it is finally finding it’s home after being away for far too long and my own settles into its chiseled out place low on his hips. Ben takes the lead seamlessly and twirls us around the small dinning space we have, sining along softly into the crown of my head.
Seconds turn to minutes which turns close to an hour before I realize any time at all has passed. I keep my eyes closed even after I take notice because I don’t know if I want to acknowledge it. Today when I was in the thick of mayhem and drama I could not, even with the most positive of thoughts, have thought such a peaceful and happy moment would be dropped into my life. I can’t be sure how long we actually stayed like that but I know was content enough to do it for the rest of time.