my sleeping turtle

for some reason, my husband has a incredible subconscious disposition. in his sleep, he is like peas and carrots. the other night, he even said, “please” to me. courteous actions i don’t think i would get consciously somehow roll out of his mouth mid-slumber like, “could you please tell me when your going to sleep on me.” i hear this and sit back into myself shocked thinking, i married plums and peaches.

this trait of boobs has been my favorite of his for the last month. my normal 'hit the pillow' sleep drench magic has temporarily left me. my powers fleeting, i find myself awake, staring, with a thousand thoughts like flies i want to swat away. i lay there listening to his breathing. i try to follow it with my own but lose breath and attention. i curl into him and try to fall asleep with his heartbeat in my ear and the gentle rising of his chest. this is not the way i like it. i like to be the one to sleep. just like i always like to be the one in the relationship leaving but never left behind. bobby teases me that when he went away to europe i couldn't handle it and had to move to california to be the one on the "go." ah! i find myself still awake and so i roll about as quietly as i can even though it would be nice to have company at this hour. there is something about the night. i do not prefer to be alone. just having him there next to me as i sway back and forth shifting into positions like i am doing bed-yoga is such a calm to me that i find it one of my favorite things about being married right now. the peace of waking up after dreaming about sharks and big blacky-brown spiders crawling down webs to get me and turning over knowing he is there by my side is the sigh of relief because not only are my sleeping terrors just a dream, but my comforter is lying right beside me ready to pull me in and hold me tight protecting me even in his subcounscious and dreamy glaze.