My best pillow is your hug.
Sleep has always been something adorable for me. No one could ever understand how much I loved my bedsheets. The way I felt when I was hugging my pillows. Many people told me that this last one, was a sign of low self esteem. Maybe an intimate and torturous need for a hug or a touch. Or maybe a need to feel the safety that every night I was looking forward to without anyone to know. Maybe not even myself. I didn’t like to feel my hands empty, vacuous. And certainly it was a habit that I could get rid of easily. And it was even harder to accept it.
The night that he slept at my place it was the first night that I didn’t feel the need to fill this emptiness.
It’s not that something was going on between us, neither that I was in love with him, how could I be, I knew him less than a month. I felt though the comfort to host him in my place, to let him explore the space that I used to call home. And this is not something to take for granted. It was magical how he suddenly made me trust him and without any second thoughts to guide him through my den.
God damn it! He was so handsome as he lied half-naked on the couch and started playing with the dog. It was like he was always there. I couldn’t distract my look from him, I was processing his details, I had made him one with the place, nothing could disrupt the picture I had in my head. I was moving my hands nervously, suddenly I was feeling that I was the guest and the more I was scanning his movements the more my mind was tripping, I wasn’t there, I was somewhere else.
It was almost 4am and his eyes got heavy despite his confusion.
I could feel his stress by my side, turning around on the bed sheets. I was able to feel him trying to get up and then falling down again on the bed peacefully, trying not to wake me up, not to disturb me.
How little did he know…
I was afraid he wanted to leave, I was cursing myself for making him sleep to a place that it was completely unfamiliar to him, I selfish I was! The thought of waking up in the morning and not finding him by my side kept my eyes open all night long until his breath found a tempo and I felt his body relaxing. And my body relaxed with his.
That night I left the pillows untouched.
None of them made it into my hug, no need for completeness conquered me. Completeness was a few inches away and he didn’t even know it. I kept this thought for me knowing that my superficial personality could become a reason to pass the rest of the night alone. And that wasn’t a risk that I was willing to take, the awkwardness was already enough in the dark room, besides my best efforts to make it disappear and gone for ever. Fuck the romantic feelings and the truth of soul boolshit, they caused more pain than redemtion.
I could swear that we overheard my last thought when his fingers gently touched my hand. No one had worn me for this. Well, it wasn’t on the schedule and for a few seconds I desperately tried to convince myself that I was dreaming. My thoughts were running with the speed of light and let myself staring at the wall. My need for completeness filled the room with the comfortness that so naturally was offered to me at the moment. And silently, a weak voice inside of me thanked him for the gift he gave me.
No mattress, no bed and no room could host me know. I was persistently looking for the daemon that possessed me and I promised to myself that once i find him I would beg him to come again. I would worship him, I would sacrifice for him until he offer me again this pleasure I felt today. It was certainly a demon. Your deepest needs cannot be seen by the golden gates sweetheart. And so deep that you hide them they will never know about them. And perhaps it is better this way.
There is no angel that can reach that deep and save you. That night, I contented myself with the demon lying by my side, I thanked him and I offered him as a return my gratitude. I was hoping that I could make him visit my den again, relax on my couch, and why not, to feel him touching my pillow by my side.
The night that we slept together the place was filled with colors.
Filled with a warmness, unexpectedly familiar, with a perfume that made my feelings bloom. The tag of insecurity that was assigned to me by the others disappeared, became water and evaporated, my fears for the boogieman in the closet just weren’t there any more.
Nothing could make me feel afraid again and after a long time my eyes made it clear that it was time to be visited by the brother of death.
KInd as always, I smiled and I informed him that today I didn’t need his help. I kept my eyes closed and I said goodbye. Then, I stayed calm waiting for him to wake up by my side. I didn’t want to miss a moment. Who knows, he might not be there when the first sunlight comes.
I let my self for one night to fall in love, to dream and hope. My internals knew what has happened and even though it was still dark outside I could clearly see the light. I didn’t know if he felt the same way, or if he ever could. That wasn’t important. That night I had him there.