In the Morning

October 29, 2006

So you go to bed one night, and it doesn't really matter who it is next to you. All you know is things are beautiful. Your relationship is beautiful.

It's dark, and you get to just lie there, warm from the person that is there with you. You go to sleep, knowing that your relationship is intact.

In the morning, you wake up, and you stare at the ceiling for an hour, even though the need to urinate is what woke you. You get up, you go, and you crawl back in bed with that person. They're in their own little dream world, oblivious of you. You go back to staring at the ceiling. It's too light to go back to sleep.

You lay there an hour longer. You know all the faces in the stuccoed ceiling by now. You've even named them, and you have a favorite. You're bored with the things in your head. And you're sick of the snoring one across the bed.

You get up, get dressed. Smooth back your hair. Try to make it look like you weren't somewhere you shouldn't have been.

You leave, locking the door behind you. Knowing that, for better or for worse, your relationship has been altered forever.

Here in your bedroom -Goldfinger