Being Here for You

Dear Hannah,

I believe the rest found you.

It began in the car:
You are in the passenger seat and you lean your head against the headrest. There is a bag between your legs with a dessert inside that has already been prepared. Someone else will cook dinner. It’s late afternoon and there is nothing left for you to do now. On the radio a sensual French voice introduces a Jazz musician. It’s getting dark already. You start to yawn, one after another, deep and long.

In the evening the resting extends as you are lying on a carpet in the living room. The fabric is soft and you are on your back with your knees bent so that your feet are flat on the ground. You press your toes into the wool. From the kitchen comes a delicious smell of food. Around you (above you) there’s a conversation going on about a movie you haven’t seen and there is no need for you to attend to what’s being said. You are happy about the familiarity of the voices, their accents and laughs. You feel safe here.
And then you welcome the rest, as a visitor, a friend, perhaps even a lover. “Well hello,” you go, “There you are.. please make yourself at home in this body.. stay as long as needed.”