perfection

The lights were off. Only the antique lamps cast soft glows around the room. The puppies were beside the couch. Dunkyn resting and licking the floor (such gross sounds); Dolan going from each of us, constantly trying to receive more pets and get a lick in here and there. We each sat at opposite end of the couch, legs intertwined over pillows in the middle, one free hand rubbing each other’s feet. Him going through his songbook, committing to memory as he sang quietly the music for the upcoming Gay Men’s Chorus Christmas concert. Me, reading Lost Voices until I began to doze off. Recognizing the moment for what it was. One of the perfect instances in life where you truly have all you’ve ever needed and all you’ve really ever longed for. Life in its perfection.