Rustication

Has it been almost two years now since you shared this dream with me?

I’d like to build a house by the beach with plenty of books to read, music to listen to, with the love of my life drinking Shiraz or Merlot without a care in the world. Occasionally, we would visit a museum in the urban jungle, see a day baseball game, go to an exotic place, hike the Appalachia, camp under the stars, see a play or go to a concert, dinner at a small restaurant by the Windsor castle and lots and lots of laughter. And do it all over again… I'd like you in my dreams, traipsing on the beach, teasing each other’s follies and you quoting famous dead people.

So far-fetched it seemed then, but it is now almost within our reach. It is so close that I can almost hear our laughter blending with the lulling sound of the waves and the rhythm of country life. It is so close that I am eager to be dislodged from where I am today. It is so close that I find myself anxious to say goodbye to life as I knew it and to embrace a new one with you.

Others may not believe it, but I yearn for the quiescence of a bucolic life--away from all the unnerving noise and enervating zombie-like energy of the city--punctuated with occasional visits to the world beyond it. I yearn for a home where, while fashioning sentences, I can look out the window and actually see the true color of the sky, vivid and not steeped in smog. The boondocks it may seem but it provides all of life’s essentials. Above all these, I yearn to have a world of our own, the life of our dreams.

Just a little bit more. We are almost there.