Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Where We Sleep

I guess it becomes less and less important where we sleep if we are used to sleeping wherever, whenever, with whomever. As a sufferer of chronic nightmares, I have always feared the darkness that seems to swallow me whole. To me, where we sleep makes all the difference.

In five weeks, I do not know where I will be. I don't know what kind of accommodations I will have. I won't have this house anymore, or this bed. I am afraid to fall asleep with the same insecurity that has plagued me before, and I am afraid of what the morning brings. To have this uncertain relationship with sleep deeply complicates my daily life. No doubt the uncertainty in general makes me want to hide my head under the covers for an eternity.

It is no surprise that each day I step further into adulthood, I miss my grandma tucking me in to bed, singing me Bible songs, and I miss the goodbye kiss in the morning from my dad before he left for work, and I miss the bed across the room that was my sister's where I would retreat in the midst of a nightmare. Wherever I will be in a few week's time, I hope the arms of sleep are kind, forgiving, and comforting. I could really use a good night's rest.

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