And all the cats are purring

The morning is peaceful and concordant, and all the cats are purring. Sunlight filters softly through the window, illuminating the room with a pink glow, casting light upon a simple life, a satisfied life. I am in bed, beside me rests the person I love, the person who loves me, my perfect puzzle piece. He sleeps soundly, his chest rising and falling to the melody of his dreams. I feel his warmth beside me, and I know that I am not alone. Our two cats sit near the foot of the bed, kneading blankets and humming their feline song. I feel their warmth through the blanket, and I know that I am not alone.

I have the option to rise from bed, to shower and prepare a warm cup of coffee. I have the option to remain in bed, warmed by love and feline affection. There's no worry about missing work, I am secure in life, love, and livelihood. I don't need to be anywhere; where I am is exactly where I'm supposed to be. I feel my partner shift slightly, and I know I am not alone. I hear the cats purring, and I know I am not alone. If I were to look at my phone, I would see messages from the people I care about, and I know I am not alone. I am connected with other human beings, I am not alone.

The morning light is beautiful, I see hints of pink clouds from the little gap between window and curtain. If I were a painter, I would paint the morning sky. If I were a photographer, I would document these heavens, commemorating forever the softness of the morning. If I were a writer, I would write about the loveliness of the natural world. I sometimes create art, but I am not a painter. I sometimes take photos, but I am not a photographer. I sometimes write prose and poetry, but I am not a writer. So I lay still, content with experiencing and committing the morning beauty to memory. I am myself, and I am not alone.

I decide that it is not quite time for me to rise. Later in the morning, after the pink clouds have faded and the sun hangs high in a bright ocean of cerulean blue, I will make coffee, I will feed the cats, I will read the morning newspaper and respond to my friends. Later in the morning, I will wake beside the love of my life, and we will share a smile. I am not alone.

I am in love with the wonder of life, and this love has transformed a simple and mundane existence into a fantasy. I am grateful to be alive. I close my eyes, ready to sink back into the soft embrace of sleep. I am not alone, and all the cats are purring.