There’s a method in your sleeping, that need for you to turn your back on me. It was so puzzling and simply weird. Me, lying there, so used to you awake and looking my direction but in your sleep, no. And then you told me that as a child you always felt like you had to face the “dangerous” side of the bed. Turning your back on me meant that I was your safe side (not the dangerous one). Just when you’re about to wake up you slowly turn, every inch of a movementbletting me know that you’re waking up from fighting the demons of your sleep and coming back home to me.
I have a new favorite sleeping position. It involves you, wrapped around me like a cape. That way, I can pretend to be a superhero, and you can be the one that (symbolically) makes me fly.
