Although I always seem to be the one asking for sex, it's hard for me to crawl into bed with my lover at 10 or 11 p.m. I can come in for a moment, offer a kiss or a caress, but really, for me, the night's just getting started.
It's not that anything of much substance will happen. Maybe a poem will come, some piece of a short story, the beginning of a letter. A dribble of writing, if that.
But oh, how I melt into that silence. The absolute stillness of the house, so quiet I can hear a squirrel outside skimming his cache. So quiet I can make out the slightest echo from the freeway, a big rig muscling its way up north.
At this hour, even the dogs are hushed into sleep, bereft of a reason to keep up their watch for the UPS man or the neighbor's children retrieving an errant football from our front yard.
Soon enough, it is midnight, then 12:30, then 1, then 2. On a good night, I stay awake long enough to greet 3 a.m., and by then I've gone soft completely, my contacts blurring my vision, my brain fuzzy with half-thoughts, my heart pliant and flexible as ever.
And then, when it couldn't possibly get any darker, I ease into bed and listen to the sound of slow and steady breathing. It's not quite a lullaby, but almost.
2 comments:
Do you really stay up that late most nights? I hope and pray that you will soon be able to crawl into bed, love and be loved, and then sleep well. Deeply. Many hours. May the sounds of the outside life dull into the white noise that eases you onto the highway of blissful dreams. Sleep in heavenly peace.
PS. I'm the one who often asks for sex in my relationship also. What's up with that???
You explained it beautifully, thank you. I've often struggled when forced to defend my love of the peace I find in the night.
This time though, my partner doesn't mind at all.
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