Unrest

Original Post: May 19, 2007

I am sure I can still feel the warm spot where you lay next to me as if you have just moved from the bed...my friends tell me I'm "crazy," "sensitive," "dramatic," "still healing." Perhaps they are right - or perhaps it is a matter of science...your side is closer to the window - maybe the sun warms it during the day and it keeps it warmer at night. Maybe the blankets have shifted more weight to make them more heavy on that side...be that as it may, at night, in the hazy state between sleep and wake, when my foot drifts over to your side of the bed and finds that warmth, my body relaxes. It's as if my mind is quieted by the fact that in that late night/early morning stupor something has said "he's just gotten up to go to the bathroom, he'll be right back" and I can drop off into a deep, restful serene sleep that I don't find if I can't find on the nights I don't feel your presence.
My friends tell me I'll move on and I'll find someone new...I want to laugh at them until I eventually hear the words come out of my mouth...as if they are being forced out, slowly and unwillingly by every organ in my body - they are stumbling like a child trying to climb boulders - "I'm ready to move on." I laugh after I say them knowing that nothing could be further from true.
My foot finds the warmth of where your body has just left and I roll towards the empty spot in my foggy hazy and my mind drifts to rest. My insides come to peace as I realize that you'll be right back beside me and I begin again to fall into that heavy sleep that comes from knowing I am safe - that we are safe. "Are you ok, babe?" says a voice that isn't yours...and I manage to feign an incoherent groan of sleep and roll over from your side of the bed as my insides jolt awake and again begin the unrest and unsettled movement that has been life without you.