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.
3 comments:
Isn't wonderful how they can still surprise you and say exactly what you needed, and not what you were expecting? :D
Courtney, no joke, you are an amazing writer. I wish I could describe things the way you do. You are amazing!
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!
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