One, two, three--deep breaths, the last moments of sleep. The earplugs come out. The world is set in chaos. Neighbors-Below blast worship music, I remember "Encounter Day." The living room sounds of the Threesome. Music blares form the kitchen CD player: Tangled Sound Track. Roomie dances by the front door. Husbands are in discussion.
I smile. The skin pulls tight from chapped lips.
One, two, three--a failed count down to lift off. Roomie waltzes into the room, apologizes for waking me. We laugh, I emerge.
The living room is a picture of cohabitation. Each careful to encourage, filled with dainty apologies. Do I know these people?
Simple conversations, husbands-weddings-onday6.com, friends-fights-prophetic words. Small talk.
I sit on an ever floating sea, begging to dive past the water's surface. Longing to plunge into the unseen, an ever more powerful part of life. We float, as passengers, with views from fogged glass, everything in part. We sit as passengers, unintentional, and along for the ride. Is the point discovery or destination, to see or to live?