Never
7.12.08
5AM
We slept in his bed last night. He was exhausted and only going to get three and a half hours of sleep. I wasn’t nearly as tired but I wanted to stay and be near him. It had been a long week, not seeing him and only speaking for 20 minutes each day—on a good day.
I lay there silently as he breathed heavily, in the throes of sleep after only three minutes, with one arm still flung haphazardly around me.
After 30 minutes I was sleepier. I gingerly moved his arm so I could turn on my side and perhaps fall asleep. I thought I had successfully moved without awakening him when he began to murmur something. He turned over and reached out for me. Of course I lay myself across him, my face in the crook of his neck.
As he groggily embraced me, he whispered, “I love you.” Whenever he says this first it throws me, happily, off guard.
After a moment I kissed his neck and began to say, “I love you too,” but he was already mumbling something else.
“You know that, don’t you?”
I’ve never slept so well.
