A Smaller Infinity
Lying on my back in this field next to you is the happiest I’ve been in a while. We’re just staring at the clouds and picking out shapes. It’s so simple, but it’s perfect. I am surrounded by beauty and all I smell are the lilacs and you — two of my favorite things.
For me, it couldn’t get much better than this; you basking in the sunlight, me in the slight breeze that is ever present in this valley. I glance at you, lying beside me with a content smile on your face and wonder briefly if it’s possible to count all of the freckles peppered across your cheeks. I wonder why I care enough to try.
I want more than anything to know what you’re thinking about. Maybe me. Probably not. Maybe just relishing the feeling of the sun kissing your face. Either way I could stare at you forever.
You turn your head to look at me and I turn mine to look up at the sky. I raise my hand lazily and point to a cloud drifting slowly above us. “That one looks like a dragon.”
You look up at it and your lips turn down ever so slightly into a playful frown. “I’d say it’s more of a lake monster.”
I laugh. “You and your lake monsters.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows and very seriously say, “hey, it’s entirely possible for there to be a monster in Lake Champlain.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I know your spiel, but I’d listen to the whole thing again just to see your eyes light up.
Instead of jumping into your usual monologue, you just say, “have a little faith.” You sound a bit hurt.
I sit up cross-legged and fiddle with the grass by my feet. “Let’s rent a boat sometime. You and me. We’ll go looking.”
You snort and say, “yeah, okay.”
“I’m serious,” I say. And I am. When you turn to look at me, you’re beaming so brightly that I can almost imagine you love me as much as I love your smile.