The Missing Sleeper
I slept in the middle of the bed last night. Mr. Bir Toujour was gone, and I was trying to fill up the space. I made a cascade of extra pillows to prop up my head and I stayed up until after midnight, reading. It was heavenly.
But I realized once the lights were out that I always sleep in the middle of the bed--or at least it ends up that way. It's cold in our room. I like to be close to Mr. Bir Toujour, who is so soft and warm. He's pointy, too, with bony knees, elbows, and ankles, and I miss his unintentional little pokes.
Before we moved in together--and way before that, before we even dated--I slept in my own double bed. I filled the extra space up with pillows, blankets, and the same stuffed dog and bear I've had since I was seven. Somehow, all of that stuff only made the bed seem bigger, more empty. I used to spend a lot of time sleeping in, imagining how nice it would be to have someone else there next to me.
That all seems so far away now. I can't imagine what it's like for someone if their spouse dies, or they get a divorce after years of marriage. I think humans were made to sleep together (well, at least I think that in the winter, when it's cold and too expensive to turn on the heat).
I sleep in the middle of the bed because as the night progresses, I edge closer and closer to Mr. Bir Toujour. Sometimes I wish I could crawl inside of him and float, be inside of him like he's a jacket. But instead I keep on edging over, until he only had a few inches left on his side.
Mr. Bir Toujur comes back today; he was only gone overnight. He's been gone longer, and so have I. Tonight I won't be as comfortable reading in bed, and I won't have that happy sadness of him being gone. I'll still sleep in the middle of the bed, though.
But I realized once the lights were out that I always sleep in the middle of the bed--or at least it ends up that way. It's cold in our room. I like to be close to Mr. Bir Toujour, who is so soft and warm. He's pointy, too, with bony knees, elbows, and ankles, and I miss his unintentional little pokes.
Before we moved in together--and way before that, before we even dated--I slept in my own double bed. I filled the extra space up with pillows, blankets, and the same stuffed dog and bear I've had since I was seven. Somehow, all of that stuff only made the bed seem bigger, more empty. I used to spend a lot of time sleeping in, imagining how nice it would be to have someone else there next to me.
That all seems so far away now. I can't imagine what it's like for someone if their spouse dies, or they get a divorce after years of marriage. I think humans were made to sleep together (well, at least I think that in the winter, when it's cold and too expensive to turn on the heat).
I sleep in the middle of the bed because as the night progresses, I edge closer and closer to Mr. Bir Toujour. Sometimes I wish I could crawl inside of him and float, be inside of him like he's a jacket. But instead I keep on edging over, until he only had a few inches left on his side.
Mr. Bir Toujur comes back today; he was only gone overnight. He's been gone longer, and so have I. Tonight I won't be as comfortable reading in bed, and I won't have that happy sadness of him being gone. I'll still sleep in the middle of the bed, though.
posted by Lefty at 8:31 AM
4 Comments:
you sleep in big bed byself? You must be quite a big girl. I did not picture that. I saw you more as petite. Short and with small feet.
Huh, I missed Sarak as well. I slept in a shitty hotel bed, with break-neck pillows. And by the way, whoever Danny is, Sarak is not a "big girl" she is quite thin and in good shape. She does have big feet kinda. But she is definitely not big, like some huge, McDonalds eating American Idoler, or something.
this is weird. Are you big gor; or are you not! my guess is that you are short and heavyf or your weitgh but not to big as to be unattractive.
In SOTL Buffalo Bill voice: "Uhhh, was she like a great big fat person?"
"Put the lotion in the basket and give me back my precious!!"
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