Perched in the corner of my bed, with my head resting on my knees, I heard the footsteps as he came inside the room and shut the door behind him. I heard him as he took out his wallet from his jeans' back pocket and threw it away at the very corner of the bed. Very swiftly, he jumped on the bed and I could tell he was now laying there with his arms behind his head, a pillow folded under his neck and one of his legs resting on the other.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1..
I knew he'd address me now:
"What's the matter?" He asked as if he was listening to the count down in my head.
I lift my head up and turned back to look at him. There he was laying exactly like I knew he would be. Hands were behind his head. Pillow was folded under the neck and legs were resting over one another. It made my heart smile even with the cloud of sadness hovering over my head. I put my feet on the ground and stood up now heading towards him. There was a very little gap on his side of bed but I decided to sit there anyway. Close to where his heart was beating. "I just had a rough day," I said expecting his hands to pat my cheeks. He didn't budge and kept on looking at me. I heard my voice breaking down for letting it all out finally after having nobody to talk to for a long time."I hate loud voices, baby! I can't stand shouts and screams. I heard quite a few today so I decided to sit in solitude. With myself."
"Hmm.." was his reply.
Please hold my hand. Tell me that I'll be fine. Give me a reassuring hug, please? I wanted to say all that to him but I heard myself saying this instead:
"Are you hungry? Should I bring some food? I didn't eat anything since this morning. Let's eat?"
"Yes."
Oh. He is mad at me. Two back to back monosyllables. Definitely mad. But why? So what if he didn't take my hand in his, I took his hand in mine instead, gently moving it from behind his head and squeezed it. Strange how even the slight touch of a hand could bring so much warmth to my body, my soul. I felt so much love for him at that very moment and my sadness started to vanish on its own. Funny how only one's presence can have so much effect, so effortlessly. I wish he'd smile at me too. He didn't. No worries, I'll cheer him up. My mind had too many of thoughts going on. "Bringing the food right away, mister!" I said trying to make him smile. He closed his eyes and I left to get the food.
After a few minutes, when I entered the room with food in my hand, I saw his shirt tossed at the ottoman while he was fast asleep. I went to him and tried to wake him up like I always did; ran my fingers through his cropped hair. He twitched a little and then went back to sleep. "Hey! Wakey wakey. The food's here." Nothing. I kissed him on his cheek. Nothing. Harder this time. He tried to open his eyes.
"You slept! I've brought the food" I said gently, my fingers still running through his hair.
"Just leave me, please. I'm not hungry." He said with an air of nonchalance.
Why is he doing this? Ok, don't break down, girl! I told myself. Composing myself again, I asked:
"But you just asked me to bring you some food?" My thumb now rubbing his stubble that I always adored.
He stared at me for a couple of seconds, turned his face away from me, took a pillow in his arms hugging it like it'd run away, pulled the quilt all the way up to his face and shut me out just like that.
Confused, I tried to take that quilt off his face when I heard a little snore; a subtle message asking me to go away. I halted my hand midway not trying to disturb his solitude. As much as I wanted to stay there, I forced myself to get up and take the food back to where it belonged. I sipped a glass of water and came on the other side of the bed - the gap between us now seeming bigger than it had ever been. You could have at least moved the quilt down a bit so I could watch your face while you sleep, I thought to myself. I watched him anyway trying to mute out the shouts that were still echoing in my head from earlier today.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1..
I knew he'd address me now:
"What's the matter?" He asked as if he was listening to the count down in my head.
I lift my head up and turned back to look at him. There he was laying exactly like I knew he would be. Hands were behind his head. Pillow was folded under the neck and legs were resting over one another. It made my heart smile even with the cloud of sadness hovering over my head. I put my feet on the ground and stood up now heading towards him. There was a very little gap on his side of bed but I decided to sit there anyway. Close to where his heart was beating. "I just had a rough day," I said expecting his hands to pat my cheeks. He didn't budge and kept on looking at me. I heard my voice breaking down for letting it all out finally after having nobody to talk to for a long time."I hate loud voices, baby! I can't stand shouts and screams. I heard quite a few today so I decided to sit in solitude. With myself."
"Hmm.." was his reply.
Please hold my hand. Tell me that I'll be fine. Give me a reassuring hug, please? I wanted to say all that to him but I heard myself saying this instead:
"Are you hungry? Should I bring some food? I didn't eat anything since this morning. Let's eat?"
"Yes."
Oh. He is mad at me. Two back to back monosyllables. Definitely mad. But why? So what if he didn't take my hand in his, I took his hand in mine instead, gently moving it from behind his head and squeezed it. Strange how even the slight touch of a hand could bring so much warmth to my body, my soul. I felt so much love for him at that very moment and my sadness started to vanish on its own. Funny how only one's presence can have so much effect, so effortlessly. I wish he'd smile at me too. He didn't. No worries, I'll cheer him up. My mind had too many of thoughts going on. "Bringing the food right away, mister!" I said trying to make him smile. He closed his eyes and I left to get the food.
After a few minutes, when I entered the room with food in my hand, I saw his shirt tossed at the ottoman while he was fast asleep. I went to him and tried to wake him up like I always did; ran my fingers through his cropped hair. He twitched a little and then went back to sleep. "Hey! Wakey wakey. The food's here." Nothing. I kissed him on his cheek. Nothing. Harder this time. He tried to open his eyes.
"You slept! I've brought the food" I said gently, my fingers still running through his hair.
"Just leave me, please. I'm not hungry." He said with an air of nonchalance.
Why is he doing this? Ok, don't break down, girl! I told myself. Composing myself again, I asked:
"But you just asked me to bring you some food?" My thumb now rubbing his stubble that I always adored.
He stared at me for a couple of seconds, turned his face away from me, took a pillow in his arms hugging it like it'd run away, pulled the quilt all the way up to his face and shut me out just like that.
Confused, I tried to take that quilt off his face when I heard a little snore; a subtle message asking me to go away. I halted my hand midway not trying to disturb his solitude. As much as I wanted to stay there, I forced myself to get up and take the food back to where it belonged. I sipped a glass of water and came on the other side of the bed - the gap between us now seeming bigger than it had ever been. You could have at least moved the quilt down a bit so I could watch your face while you sleep, I thought to myself. I watched him anyway trying to mute out the shouts that were still echoing in my head from earlier today.
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