Early Birds

"How did you know that I would be up?" I bravely asked midway through the conversation. 

I've complained about your old early morning habit, but the truth is, I like to know that you're thinking of me, even if it's early.

Perhaps you know that I don't sleep well when she's away.  You assure me that she'll be fine at camp, but she broke her arm riding a scooter.  Anything is possible, isn't it? 

In forty minutes we catch up on what's vital:  politics, the Stock Market, work.   The personal stuff still seems to be slightly untrodden territory that needs to be rediscovered, but you ask me if I'm talking to anyone else, The Others as you refer to them.

None of The Others vaguely imitate the instantaneous attraction, the intellectual compatibility, or the off-the-wall humor of us when we were in sync.  I freely concede this point.

Of the women that you've met and the women that you'll meet, there will be those who are more beautiful, more sexy, more intelligent, and more humorous than I. 

However, I doubt that any of the proxies have those qualities in the proportions that I offer.

It's why you call me before the birds chirp, isn't it, even after all the arguments?