She once wrote about a space teetering on the edge of absolute rawness: concrete flooring, exposed brick walls, overly tall windows, and high ceilings. On a separate occasion, he also imagined a space quite similar in nature. A place with an open floor plan and only a Japanese folding screen separating the industrial living space from the intimacy of a single bed tucked away in the corner. When he told her about this, she saw her own imagining change slightly. She no longer only saw herself in it, but she saw him in it, too.
She saw them together.
She saw an empty space surrounded by nothingness. Nothingness was all they ever wanted, all they ever needed. Because everything they wanted and needed was in each other. It was morning. Natural light made its way through the sectioned window panes and onto his pale skin, her tanned skin, their bare skin. They were living in their own filtered projection.
They were lying in a bed of wrinkled white sheets, creased by the previous night. They welcomed the quietness of unspoken emotions. There was nothing separating him from her, her from him. His body, which was the perfect amount of heaviness, moved over hers and she shifted her weight to let him in completely. She lifted her right hand and ran her fingers slowly down the side of his face. He gently swept her hair to the side and they stared at each other without saying a word. In that moment, time stood still for them. They were together. They were in love.
They were complete. They laid in their white bed for hours.
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You deserve to find love, to be loved, and to live in love.
I wish you all the light in the universe.