Nocturne: A dreamy, pensive composition for the piano with a soft and somewhat sad melody; a piece of music or art dealing with the night.
Aubade: A morning song; a song of lovers parting at dawn.
I can't sleep tonight.
It's almost 6am, and I've been sleeping next to this woman who's been with me since April 21st, but whom I've known since March 2011. She's got this sleep pattern; she starts facing away from me, then halfway through the night she turns to face me, and we sleep together, our faces gently touching, breathing one another's breath. Finally, to finish the night, she turns to face away from me again.
A pattern. A nocturne of warmth and gentle movement and breath.
I am going to miss this. So, so much. You wouldn't believe.
This delightful woman just wandered into my life, in the same way as so many of the visitors who just entered my little sphere of isolation, and totally transformed it in the space of just ten days. But now she has to go home to her beloved pets.
And I cannot sleep. I am dying inside in anticipation of the pain of parting. In anticipation of the aubade.
Edit: She went back early this morning. I saw her off at the railway station this morning at 09:44; watched her get onto the shuttle bus to Liverpool John Lennon Station. Then I had to make my way all the way back home, alone, holding it in.
I could have just let her go at my home town's railway station; watched her go. Instead, I spent money on a ticket for myself and travelled to Liverpool South Parkway train station with her. Well worth it. Totally, totally worth it just to be with her as long as I possibly could. And I would do that again in a heartbeat.
Just so we could play that soft nocturne together.
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"And if we have unearned luck, now to scape the serpent's tongue, we will make amends ere long. Else the Puck a liar call ..."
So speak.