It's not that I can't fall asleep, it 's that I often don't See, many trials have proved that I can snuggle up and nod off easily if Sam is awake. If Sam is awake, and I know he's there next to me awake, sleeping is simple. I don't even think about it.
This means I should be sleeping right now, you say? That would be nice. The thing is that Sam falls asleep like it's his job. He falls asleep with no trouble, anywhere, anytime. Well, maybe not anytime--Anytime he has a reason to be slightly tired. He's asleep right now. Last night he told me that every night at the same time I could snuggle up against him and he would watch a show until I fell asleep. I told him he's the one who needs sleep, I don't do anything, and he has a job. He doesn't like it when I say things like that. He explained how terrible it made him feel when I didn't sleep. When Sam is awake, I feel safe; I peacefully drift off next to him. I didn't realize that I needed this. I didn't realize how vulnerable I feel at night. You see, I hadn't admitted to myself that since I stopped teaching, the idea of tomorrow, haunts me tonight. I didn't know until the one time that I fell asleep while he watched a show and stroked my hair. I woke up the next morning... rested. Did that really happen? It happens so infrequently, it feels bitter-sweet writing about it now.
Honestly, I've always imagined that if someone broke into the house in the middle of the night, I'd be the one to confront the intruder with a frying pan to the face or scissors to the eyeball. That's gross. It's just that I'm not scared of things like that. Not that Sam would be more scared, he's just super out of it if his sleep is interrupted. On the other hand, I apparently can sleep through ridiculously disruptive and loud What I mean is I don't feel safe when I'm alone, or at least not at ease when I'm alone in my thoughts. I'm scared of not sleeping. I'm scared of how I will fail tomorrow because I am so tired. These hours, when I am desperately exhausted emotionally, I feel myself spiraling into darkness too easily, yet not the dark kind that means my eyes are closed and so I can't see. When I'm alone, I think too much. I can't unwind myself from around everything that was and is and will be. I can't find peace. I can't believe this is where I am. I can't believe I'm sitting here or laying there awake when I want to be asleep because I am tired from teaching all day or doing something that has meaning with my daylight hours. I would never write if I slept. I write when I can't sleep. I wish I could read when I can't sleep. My eyes burn, though, and my arms fall asleep holding the book. At times, I make friends with other people who don't sleep. It's nice to have someone to talk to when I feel most alone. Because I never feel more alone, more lonely, than I do at 3:00 am, and the house is quiet, and I tiptoe to look at each bed--each of my loves--all sleeping so sweetly, so beautifully, so peacefully. I could watch them all night. At least they fell asleep knowing I was here.
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