My darling, how are you this evening? Thinking of you very much, as always, and particularly now as I sit here at my desk by lamplight, sipping rosé from an ice-filled glass, rubbing verbena-scented lotion onto my dry hands, feeling the ache of my muscles from a home-pilates workout I did this afternoon. I realized that maybe I don't need a new DVD player, that maybe I could play my exercise discs on my computer. Sure enough. I knew I had a DVD drive, of course, but I've never played anything off it, and D found the right app on the desktop (one I'd never even noticed before), and before long I was watching Charlie Rose while strenuously working out on a mat right up here. I really enjoyed getting back to the old routines (two separate discs) which leave no muscle unworked or unpolished. But now I'm feeling it a bit, no matter, I'll be back in the groove in no time. I enjoy the graceful balletic moves that the routines incorporate too. They make my limbs and muscles feel very elongated, I become conscious of my carriage and posture, and - as the lithe instructor admonishes - of trying to make the transitions smooth and graceful. (Kisses, my darling Vitruvian man, from your loving female counterpart.) Anyway - I feel recommitted to these regimens. And the timing today couldn't have been more perfect since it was dark and gloomy and snowed on and off most of the day so I never made it out for a walk. I had no wish to share the slushy road with behemoth snow plows, anyway. Much nicer to be up in the cozy aerie in my underwear, going through all sorts of motions.
My darling, I wish when you come back tomorrow we could be together, but I can wait. I'll be thinking of you, of course, on your journey. I checked it out online - wow, that's a long flight, I hadn't realized. I picture myself sitting next to you, we page through magazines, chat, nap, look out the window at clouds, the sea, the sky, vast Greenland or Canadian ice sheets below, enjoying being in each other's company. But I can wait. Or maybe I can't. I'm sitting next to you and I've just touched your hand and kissed you on the cheek causing you to smile and look at me and our eyes meet and we look at each other and smile and you lean in to me and for a brief exquisite moment we nuzzle and your sweet lips find mine. It's broad daylight in the cabin and there's all sorts of restless bustling, so there's no privacy. It's okay. We readjust in our seats, a pair of horses you and I, silently and eloquently content in each other's company.
Darling, I managed to not get cabin fever at all today even though I didn't do more than step out onto the snowcovered windswept porch once or twice. And I hope very much that in your own way you won't get cabin fever either. I'll be there thinking of you, so if you get restless then think of me. Sweet dreams in the meantime. Loving you, always. XOXO