dancing on my own
As of two weeks ago, I am 28 years old. I’m laying in a bed with someone for the first time in over a year. The light from his laptop is distracting. His back is turned to me.
I lay straight and still, hoping he forgets I am here. We are not wearing clothes, but nothing will happen.
He puts on a movie and immediately starts to snore. There is no way I am going to sleep tonight. I turn my back to his and feel nothing.
I feel nothing and then suddenly a sneak snuggle attack. His leg wrapped around my body as if he knew I was want to leave. My anxiety began to burn through my pupils and burn holes in the wall. The bed was made of quicksand.
The first time I remember checking my phone, it was after 1:30 in the morning. I have nothing but time on my hands and so I start to remember this guy from college. I remember the way he used to make me feel. I remember visiting him in D.C. six or seven years ago. We left a party many beers later and I woke up to his back towards me as he’s watching Lost on his laptop.
I try crying myself to sleep, all this does is leave mascara stains on his pillow. What happened to the woman who had her way with this Peter Pan and then kicked him out when she was done?
7:30 am: I was happy to see the sun.
I am waiting for him to wake up, he’s my ride home. I can hear his chickens in the backyard, where I want to be. Eventually there is eye contact and “good morning.”
I don’t feel my body as he pulls me closer. We are cuddling again, all I can think about is taking my dog for a walk and the show Girls. There is a momentary pass of affections, quickly interrupted by immature allergic reactions. I was happy to postpone (postbone, if you will).
I am sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on my clothes. My head is intoxicated from no sleep, and too much wine. I need a diet coke from McDonalds more than I need to get laid.
He asks if I am hungry.
“I have food at home,” I said.
I am back home with fresh eggs and a large diet coke. I am so closing to knowing who I am and getting what I want. I realize it is time for me to turn my back on the version of myself I think about when I can’t sleep. It is time to wake up.