My Dearest:
Oh, how I detest when the alarm goes off in the morning,
waking me from our time together. I stay
with you, cling to you until I've stayed way past any time I should. I simply cannot tear myself away from you,
your soft embrace, the warmth of you.
The moment I roll away from you, I count the long minutes until we are
together again. I think of you all
through the day, wonder what you are doing, how you are. Do you miss me, too? Do you wish for the feel of my weight against
yours? Yet when we see each other again,
I am almost afraid to touch you, lest I drift into that familiar nothingness
that makes our time together so effortless.
The way you brush against my cheek, touch my hair, mold to the folds of
my legs.
Soon. So soon I will
see you again and be with you again. All
night. This time I promise I will spend
the entire night with you, and I'll let the light of day wake me. I promise to spend more time with you, but,
my dearest, we cannot be exclusive. Much
as I love you, need you, want to be with you, I must separate myself from you
lest you become a dependency to me.
Please understand why I leave you for long hours only to beg for your
forgiveness and embrace when I finally return.
Wait for me. I shall
come home soon, and when I do, it will be like a dream.
Dearest Bed, you are my one and only, and I do adore you
more than any other piece of furniture I own.
Yes, even the soft, doe-suede futon, though I've been known to nap there
when you're not looking. Please don't
hold it against me. Hold your clean,
warm sheets against me, instead. Let me
rest my weary head against your pillows.
You've no idea how much I truly do miss you, my friend, with
your fluffy mattress pad and your flannel sheets and your extra blankets in case
the cold creeps in during the dark night.
Wait for me, bed.
Please, after the week I've had, I'm begging you. Wait for me.
