Sometimes – most of the time – I don’t sleep at night. And when I want to lay down, I don’t want do it in Our Bed.
I will turn from one side, turn to the other. My leg, sometimes, won’t stop kicking in its atavistic beat into the sheets. And I don’t want to wake her up. She has far more important things to do during her day than I do.
In fact, she helps people.
She makes sure patients get medicine.
Talk with them about their COVID-19 test results, and what to do if the test is POSITIVE. She is a busy lady. A lady that needs her sleep. A lady that should not have to deal with a much larger, thrashing body beside her in bed.
Something that has amazed me about my time going to sleep now as compared to the past: my mind is no longer racing the thoughts of what I do not have, and what I need & desire.
Could it be I HAVE everything that I thought I wanted? Surely not. But it is starting to feel that way. I have everything I NEED. That is covered. And she made sure I was taken care of by the second night we were together.
Am I being spoiled?
Of course I am.
And I am trying to get used to the whole idea that I don’t have to worry so much anymore. To not have to worry about food & a home & commitment is something that should be slipped into softly.
She is in the bed, now. Dreaming the dream of dreams, I hope. Smelling warm & clean & lady-like. Because that is what she is: A Special Southern Lady. One that helps people, is compassionate, loving of animals (I think her BIG secret is loving the dogs more than she loves people.)
And she came for me.
Drove all the way to the terrible side of East Cleveland to retrieve me.
Why did she do such a self-indulgent, dangerous thing? Well, because she WANTED to, that’s why. Because she wanted me out of Cleveland, and be by her side. She wanted help with the farm (which I am gladly doing) she wanted companionship.
Why not give it to her?
But, no matter how hard I try, I need MY time in the DARK. My time writing on this blog has become very important.
Hell, I am writing again. I’m writing in a way – in a fashion – I am not used to… but have come to terms that this is how I should write.
And that is something I do better at while the world is asleep; while the dogs are snoring in the bed with My Lady & all feels safe & good in the house.
Old Mills Acre Farm
December 16, 2021