The kids are tucked snugly in their beds, the house is eerily quiet. I'll be going to bed alone tonight. And the next. And the night after that.
The doors are locked, the dishwasher loaded and running. I avoid it, that empty, cold, companion-less bed. The only comfort coming from the neon blue glow from the TV, the same TV I resisted for years saying that we didn't need one in the bedroom. Now, I'm the one that needs it in that bedroom.
I imagine my husband is on adventures, staying at lavish hotels, sleeping in, eating at amazing restaurants, drinking and laughing with his business clients. I'm here at the computer, resisting sleep to the point of exhaustion so that when my head hits the pillow, I'm out cold in two seconds flat. Because that's the worst. Tossing and turning, alone. Closing your eyes, waiting. Waiting motionless for sleep to overcome your body.
I pride myself as being an independent, capable woman who has the personal philosophy "if you want something done, you've got to do it yourself". Yet, I need him. To sleep. For comfort. Because the dark stillness of the night is unpleasant and lonely. The loud gurgles of snores that annoyingly keep me awake at night are missed, now that the silence is deafening.
In the morning, the sun rises, the birds sing and the warmness of life fills the bedroom. I forget that I'm alone until my eyes open and I see the empty pillow next to me and my body feels the cold space stretching across the other side of the bed. The routines of the day begin, the loneliness subsides as I take care of children, work and mingle with friends.
The cycle repeats at the end of the day as the kids are tucked snugly in their beds, the house is eerily quite and I see the empty, cold, companion-less bed.
Reynosa - Our hearts are full. Melody and I spent the six days between Christmas and New Year building a house for a single mom in Reynosa, Mexico. Brenda has four...
2 years ago