The right person

I've not got much to say, what could I possibly say that would matter to you anyway.

Not much. Probably nothing.

I've just spent the day with my girl and we didn't have much to say either.

Sometimes words aren't needed and silence, with the right look, gesture or touch, is all that's required to make the moment mean something.

And what meaning might that moment have to anyone but us? Probably none.

Our moments are exclusive anyway, they don't have to make sense to others or even include others.

I drove my truck on blacktop roads until it gave way to gravel and dirt. I kept on going.

Dust obscured the road behind and the road ahead snaked its way between low rolling hills of green under an azure sky streaked haphazardly with white clouds here and there as if a giant's hand had painted them. It was a nice day and one that an excess of words would not have improved.

We stopped and ate our lunch on the ground atop a picnic blanket, and she dozed off, head in my lap, face to the sky both of us bathed in the sun's rays that warmed in the cool air. I was content in that moment. Happy.

But this means nothing to you. You weren't there.

We were there. My girlfriend and I. We were there and present in the simplest of moments two people could share. Nature. A guy and his girl. What more is needed.

It was a good day, part of a relaxing weekend. Quiescent. Days spent in simple moments of togetherness and a stillness of mind brought about by the simple and deep enjoyment one finds in the company of the right person.