I sleep with a pillow next to me.
When I was much younger I did it to save me from the crocodiles under my bed.
When I was just a little bit younger I did it to protect me from ring wraiths under my bed and in the darkness.
When I was younger I did it out of habit and in hopes of not falling off a bed on cinder blocks.
Now, I do it out of the need and desire to have something close to me while I sleep. Out of the need to hold on to something real in a place so full of intangible dreams and goals that only condole for a moment. I do it to protect me from the nightmares that still come despite being 24 years old.
To comfort me in moments of homesickness when I miss snuggling little sisters and nieces.
To abate the sleeplessness that comes from sorrow and heartache.
To keep me from just not being alone for a few short hours when I put my defenses down and allow myself to rest from trying so hard to stay strong.
3 comments:
This one takes me back to my own single days. I think one of the reasons I'm so willing to let my little cuddle in our bed at night is because of the almost 29 years I spent alone in my bed of pillows.
Sleeping alone is a lonely thing.
Sorry...that was supposed to be "little ONES cuddle in our bed.."
I love your writing! All of it! I wish I could write as well as you do.
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