7.30 am
His movements wake me up. It’s not tossing or turning. Something else. I realize slowly what is going on. What at first might seem like the slightest nuance, after all these years together, has become as different as black and white. Just from watching the depth of his breath, I can tell whether he’s asleep or not. As if I’ve learned another foreign language. His body speaks to me. Right now, it’s shouting. Staccato. Panicky. Jolts of fear. I turn around, slightly put my hand on his arm and whisper he should wake up. Half-conscious he grabs my hand and says “Thank you, I was having a bad dream”. Â “I know, it’s alright honey” I say, as I pull him closer.
We cuddle and our bodies rhyme themselves to sleep again.
How I love these moments.
