I am already awake but I refuse to stand up from the bed. His presence next to me, his warmth and scent of last night in the room binds me and paralyse me with the feeling, almost as if with the fear that my breath could destroy this fragile moment.

I much rather listen to his breath a little longer. Delicately touch his black curls, kiss his shapely shoulders. He murmurs something in the language I love and turns to me. I know he would awake any minute now, but for now he holds me in between his arms. My whole world.
What happens next is between me and him. Perhaps partly also between us and the annoyed neighbours. Makes us both hungry.
He makes us coffee and omelette with mushrooms and cheese and I dice the tomatoes and slice the cucumber for the salad, warming up the pita in the oven and watching Al Jazeera English.
Missing this comes naturally.

The house of Elrond in Rivendell has everything I love.
The waterfall, fresh spring, the mountains and years old trees.
It has an opaque walls, columns, towers and Gothic windows that let the golden light in and let it settle on massive wooden furnitures, bookshelves heavy from their content and Celtic motives everywhere you look.
It has gardens that I could spend your eternity if I had one.

But I don't so....
I wish I a field of green grass and open space I could see from the massive window of my living room. Where I could see my horses running freely in the morning and kids playing cricket in the afternoon.

I want light and space. Mild climate and fresh breeze. I want easy accessible seclusion.

Only.... where would that be?

Whoever has watched it knows why....

This movie is so full of sadness, suffering and womanhood that it scares me it was made by a man.