I hear the buzzing, faint at first, intertwining itself in the fibers of my dreams. A strangers voice shaking me from slumber.
It’s 5:30 in the morning. A day of adventure ahead, a night of wrestling my unsettled spirit behind. I set my feet on the floor, it feels less real, less tangent somehow. Dressing in the dark, moving through the haze, slowly. Drew stays, tucked beneath the layers of blankets, swaddled in warmth and the fog of half awake dreams.
By the time he gets out of bed I am half ready to head out the door. He dresses, I do my makeup, he takes out the trash, I roll the bags into the living room. We pack the car, drive, stop, go, park, shuttle, check in. Security was busy but nothing we couldn’t manage, remove, reduce, hold for ten, scan your soul.
The flight was full but we didn’t mind. Reading, writing, listening, close your eyes and wish for sleep that refuses to come (honestly, how people sleep on air planes is beside me). Take off, touch down, transfer, bagage claim, rental car, go.
We are here, we are free, if only for a moment. The sky stretches out, a canvas of brilliant blue streaked with moments of white. The mountains gleam, reaching ever upward, beaconing all who see them to come near.
Our favorite breakfast spot, Snooze, is near closing by the time we arrive but we slide in under the wire. We talk to the bar tender and laugh as we excitedly chat about the week ahead. Coffee shops, home made pizza nights, fires, exploration. This will be a week of thought, of choice. This will be a week of friends and love.
Denver, our dear old friend, it is so good to embrace you once again.