monday night 22:22

Someone taps on my bedroom window. I’m fast asleep. The tapping grows louder and makes its way into my dreams where the sound comes out of a telephone and I think… that’s a strange ringtone. I wake, I am disoriented. The fog of dream recedes, it takes me a while to recognize the room I’m in.  The knock now comes in loud and clear. I go to the window to see what all the fuss is about and there he is. I dash to the door with sleep in my eyes and a cheshire cat smile and say “What are you doing here, silly?” He answers “I know you’ve had a rough day and I thought you might need me and then I realized — Wait a second, I CAN go see her, she’s not in Canada anymore. So I hopped on a tube and here I am.” He had sent me this text prior to jumping over the fence and knocking on my window but I was too deep in sleep to hear: “Agent J Dog! Your mission is to put down your laptop and meet your man for a cheeky pint in nearby pub. The Fulham Mitre. Go go GO!” He’s got a whimsical look in his eyes and I can tell he’s well pleased with himself. He loves a good surprise and I love the ways in which he dazzles me.

It was all very Say Anything, without the boombox, or the fight that led to the scene, or John Cusack for that matter. Ok! So it was nothing like Say Anything but it was just as romantic none-the-less. (And no, this was not a booty call, you pervs.)

We talked for a couple of hours in whispers and eventually drifted back to dreamland. We talked about luck and kindness and things that worry us and how we get so caught up sometimes in the fine details that we fail to see the big picture and how a shitty day here is still better than a shitty day in Montreal because it can always end with us lying in bed, talking into the night. And it really doesn’t get much better than that.