Monday, August 3, 2009

sleeping with a hero

It was going on 1am when I shuffled up the stairs.
"You comin' up?" he had called to me on his way to bed a little more than a hour before.
"Yeah. I'll be up in a bit."

Writing felt important...more important than sleep at the time. I needed the quiet....the stillness of a sleeping house. I needed to think.

When I walked into the room, I noticed he had left the light on in the bathroom. I felt relief and a wrench of sadness in the same moment. It was like a lighthouse guiding a sailor to shore, except the sailor was an hour later than expected. Did he fall asleep waiting? I hoped not.

I turned off the light and blindly felt my way to the bed; trying to avoid toys abandoned from the day and a moat of pillows surrounding it. It seems that no matter how careful I am I wind up bumping my right shin on the foot of the bed or tripping onto the mattress and fumbling upon one of Jared’s outstretched limbs. He lay there; seemingly undisturbed by my bedtime dance. I nuzzled my cheek on the valley of his back- the place where what some refer to as “angel wings” meet. I wanted to curl up inside of his warmth. I wanted to be rescued from my thoughts.

After a few moments, I left him to sleep.

“Are you okay?” I heard him ask softly. Was he awake that whole time?

“I feel better now that I was able to write.” I told him, unable to articulate what I was feeling.

“Oh, good.”

“Its just…I don’t feel like I’m good at anything.” I blurted out. It was an awkward thing to say at 1am. Saying things like that usually ignite long, drawn out therapy sessions. It’s like buying a gallon of milk the day you leave for a month long trip. You know you don’t have time to drink it all before you leave. I almost regretted it immediately. I knew morning would come and I didn’t want to be responsible for him feeling sleep deprived anymore that he already was.

“I’m sorry, Sweetie. I think you’re good.”

He placed a warm hand on the small of my back and soothed my skin. It felt like a heavy paperweight keeping me from floating away and for some reason it spoke more to me than anything he could say. I felt my heart unclench. My hero. My angel. Nothing mattered but that I am loved by this amazing man. Armed with the comfort and the knowledge that he loves me for a reason, I put me feelings of inadequacy and self doubt to rest, if only for the night, and drifted to sleep.


15 painted cards said...

Isn't wonderful how they can still surprise you and say exactly what you needed, and not what you were expecting? :D

Cherie' said...

Courtney, no joke, you are an amazing writer. I wish I could describe things the way you do. You are amazing!

Kathy said...

You are better than "good" at writing. You need to start writing a book. I am dead serious, I would buy it!
You took me on a journey in just a few short paragraphs! Your awesome!