I remember when he and I first met,
I would wait for him to wake up
on the other side of the world.
Time zones have always been a formidible foe in our relationship,
relegating us to very opposite worlds:
(him in autumn, when I’m in spring),
opposite times of day
(night approaching in my world as the sun rises in his).
But as our rhythms slowly but surely started synching,
despite the 9,349 miles between us,
I would start to intuitively sense him
as my day reached mid-afternoon.
I’d begin to anticipate him awaking
in his world Down Under.
Back then, we were still communicating on a dating site,
and, as I learned to master the timezone difference calculation,
I figured out the exact right time to peek online
to see if he was there.
And if he was, my breath would catch
and I would blush deep down to my toes
and jump offline as fast as I could,
like I didn’t want him to catch me peeking at him.
And after I shut my laptop window down in a flurry,
eyes wincing and shoulders shrugging up to my ears, like “eek!”,
I’d just sit there, blushing … grinning happily to myself,
excited and content to know he was up and moving about in the world again.
Nearly a year and half later … I still do this!
In fact, today is one of the days when I still do this.
Only, we abandoned the dating site ages ago.
These days, we text/email/Skype/call/(and, when we’re lucky, visit in person)
These days, I have my EST clock and his Sydney clock ticking away
side by side on my phone. Always.
Around 3:30pm my time, I start peeking
to see if he has awoken and checked his messages yet.
Is he sleeping in?
Is he up early for yoga?
Will he message me before he catches the train?
Or will be need to dash in straight to work?
I keep the EST/Sydney clock app open as I go about my work day,
and I watch it with girly anticipation;
I watch, and I smirk, and I blush, and I wait …
three more hours until he wakes up …
two more hours until he wakes up …
my “count down to Christopher”.
Of course, now,
I have a mental picture to go with my anticipation,
because my heart-and-soul-and-body have been to see him in Sydney.
I’ve been in his world, in his house, in his room, in his bed.
And so, now, in my mind,
even from all of these miles away,
I can close my eyes and pretend I’m peeking through his bedroom door,
watching for him to begin to stir,
quietly going about my business in Life until he does.
And I grin, and I grin, and I grin, and I grin.
There is something so deeply comforting
about knowing when this man that I love
is awake in the world.