Muse. Ramble. Rant. Repeat


We had gone to dinner and decided the night was not quite done. Quickly running to Blockbuster and the liquor store we hatched a plan. A girl’s sleepover tonight! How exciting, how young, we haven’t done that in a million years.

We ran by my apartment so I could pick up the essentials – pjs, toothbrush, change of clothes. I consult the boy about our plans. Not to ask permission, but to let him know what’s going on.

Although he would never say it out loud – he hates it when I spend the night away from him. Over 5 years of living together he has grown attached to sleeping next to someone at night. A particular comfort happens between two lovers who sleep together. A dance of blankets and pillows; cuddling intermittently throughout the night. He tells me to have fun and kisses me goodbye. Already he is settling into the sofa – he does not sleep in our bed if I’m not at home. He will say it’s because the sofa is more comfortable; but we both know it’s because the empty bed is not cozy enough.

In the car, we girls make fun of my boy’s inability to sleep alone. I say something witty and self important about being more independant than him.

 A night of laughter ensues. It is getting later and later. Somewhere between my second and third drink I realize that the night has already hit its peak. What seemed like such a good idea a few hours ago now has faults. Excuses form in my head. I am a morning person, I was up hours before my girlfriends, I’m tired way before they are. I work the next morning. I’m not the best sleeper, I don’t want to disturb them. It is probably best I get an uninterrupted sleep. I say my goodbyes and go home.

Coming home, I wake him up from the sofa. His sleepy smile lets me know that he missed me too. We fall into bed. Comfortable. Safe.


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