I'm feeling pretty darn good today after a 7:30am run in Central Park, complete with a jaunt around the reservoir (could that thing be any prettier?). The sun has come out, the temperature is up, I'm in a dress, and I just had a cup of coffee.
The whole city seems to have a little extra bit of pep due to the long awaited arrival of nice weather, and everyone is chatting and being nice, and smiling. I was sitting on the subway reading as 3 gentlemen boarded the train, mid-conversation. One sat down next to me and I caught the following:
"You know?! Right?! That is my idea of heaven. I don't want to be sitting around on clouds all day, floating there with everything all fluffy. It's like your best memory - your best moments - all combined. That's heaven. Like, your best time of your life right there. For me, it would be the memory of sitting with you guys in that studio. That is when I'm the happiest, so that would be my heaven."
I loved this idea: that heaven is a place where you can relive your happiest moment, the time when you felt the best about LIFE, over and over again. And I loved the simple sweetness of him telling his friends that they made him so happy; that he would want to be able to be with them - be able to retain and relive how good he felt with them - eternally in some capacity.
He then turned and started staring at me and said, "Whoa. I am sorry. It has just been so long since I've seen a woman and her legs because of this damn winter that I don't know what to do with myself!"
*I would like to remind everyone that my dress falls to my knees. I am not rocking something absurd, here.*
I laughed, told him that it was okay, and that I liked his idea of heaven.
"Yeah?! Yeah?! Wouldn't that be great? To just be able to have the best time ever? That is what heaven is!"
I agreed, exited the train, and walked out of the tunnel back into the sun.