Sleep Tight, Love

 My new love holds me tight while we sleep. 

When I toss and turn, as I am wont to do, he- in an unconscious or semi-conscious state- raises his arm and let’s me settle. Then he wraps his arms around me again and pulls me close. 

For a long time, my goal was to not want. To not need. To not feel. All of those things were risky, bell-ringing danger. Why lay yourself bare to someone who won’t think you’re enough, who won’t grow, change, push for you? Who will lie, or at least not tell the truth. Even restless, why not take up the whole bed (minus a cat or two) rather than share it with someone who is inches, yet miles, away. 

Then, as fate and happenstance sometimes design, a conversation sprang up. Words, pictures, some modern romance. Then touch...taste...desire. But still, just for fun right? But then he kept showing up. One night, early on, as we drifted off to sleep, he whispered in my ear “I think I’m falling in love with you.” Brave words. Scary words. Words that created something new. 

It took awhile for my heart to give up the high alert. But ultimately I decided if the risk of loving someone was loss, the loss of not loving at all was a much bigger risk. So I let him in. Into nooks and crannies that had been shut down for a long time. To speak the words “I love you” aloud felt like breaking an evil spell. I am finally excited again, about the possibility of sharing my life with someone. There is no guarantee, of course. But why not choose to love whilst ye may?  I am once again breathing and feeling and wanting and needing. 

So then let me sleep, safe in your arms and your love.