He shifts on the bed as I type these very words, his large hand seeking the small of my back. I hear him call my name, softly, as if I am in his dream, if he is dreaming at all.
And suddenly all is forgiven.
(Although I'm not sure it will be just as peaceful in the morning when he wakes up to see the mangled remains of another one of his leather shoes that Chicken chewed).
For the past 3 days I've been sleeping well past 3 am; like now, with Al noisily snoring beside me. A number of things have been keeping me up. 1) My job and how I sometimes love it but most of the time hate it, 2) how I badly want to transfer my sister to St. -Bleep- and how on earth am I going to pay for the expenses, and 3) how much I want to hack Al's accounts but could not, for the life of me, because that would be the ultimate betrayal of trust.
I did mention I could do that, didn't I?
It was a small white house - just a front porch, a garage for the car and the dogs, and a small square for everything else. It was simple, we didn’t need much. We leave for work, like most people do – me to take care of the sick and you to teach, but we go back to our small white square, to each other. We always do. We were happy.
The first time we had an argument, I smashed all the plates in anger, you went out to get some air. I waited for you to come home, watched TV slumped on the couch, ended up crying myself to sleep. When I woke up, I heard you snoring but noticed it was fainter. I opened my eyes and there it was, in the middle of our small square. A wall. Our small square now has a bedroom. “Why did you build a wall,” I asked, shaking you awake. “What wall?” You looked at me, confused, like I suddenly had button eyes. “That wall.” I said, pointing to my right. You stared at it for a minute and shrugged. “Must’ve gotten there while we were sleeping,” you said.
“Are you still mad?”
A heavy sigh.
“Come here.”
I scooted over to your side of the bed and you kept me in your arms till I fell asleep, till your hands went numb.
***
Neither of us ever saw the exact moment they appear but there they are right after a fight, after a shouting match, after a bitter exchange of words we never meant to say. The thick white walls, the big white doors. A fight over the remote, a second room. Dirty dishes left on the sink overnight, a wall. You forgoing our date for a school event, a long hallway. A jealous fit over what’s-her-face, another room. Me forgetting to pay the bills, another door…and the list goes on. Clothes unwashed, papers scattered, toothpaste wasted.
Our biggest fight to date, another floor.
We now live in a mansion. I miss you.
***
It’s Valentine’s and I’ve been looking for you in this maze the whole day. I grow tired and lie on the floor of one of the hundred rooms we now have. I hear the dogs barking, but the sound is too far away from where I am. I bring my ear closer to the floor, hoping to catch a footstep, a back against the wall, any sound from you.
Nothing.
I close my eyes and whisper I love you, hoping this would crumble all the walls.
Unknown to me, a hundred stories above, you’ve been saying the exact, same thing over and over and over, like a mantra to the gods.
The space between the tears we cry
is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more
-The Space Between, Dave Matthews Band
The first time we had an argument, I smashed all the plates in anger, you went out to get some air. I waited for you to come home, watched TV slumped on the couch, ended up crying myself to sleep. When I woke up, I heard you snoring but noticed it was fainter. I opened my eyes and there it was, in the middle of our small square. A wall. Our small square now has a bedroom. “Why did you build a wall,” I asked, shaking you awake. “What wall?” You looked at me, confused, like I suddenly had button eyes. “That wall.” I said, pointing to my right. You stared at it for a minute and shrugged. “Must’ve gotten there while we were sleeping,” you said.
“Are you still mad?”
A heavy sigh.
“Come here.”
I scooted over to your side of the bed and you kept me in your arms till I fell asleep, till your hands went numb.
***
Neither of us ever saw the exact moment they appear but there they are right after a fight, after a shouting match, after a bitter exchange of words we never meant to say. The thick white walls, the big white doors. A fight over the remote, a second room. Dirty dishes left on the sink overnight, a wall. You forgoing our date for a school event, a long hallway. A jealous fit over what’s-her-face, another room. Me forgetting to pay the bills, another door…and the list goes on. Clothes unwashed, papers scattered, toothpaste wasted.
Our biggest fight to date, another floor.
We now live in a mansion. I miss you.
***
It’s Valentine’s and I’ve been looking for you in this maze the whole day. I grow tired and lie on the floor of one of the hundred rooms we now have. I hear the dogs barking, but the sound is too far away from where I am. I bring my ear closer to the floor, hoping to catch a footstep, a back against the wall, any sound from you.
Nothing.
I close my eyes and whisper I love you, hoping this would crumble all the walls.
Unknown to me, a hundred stories above, you’ve been saying the exact, same thing over and over and over, like a mantra to the gods.
The space between the tears we cry
is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more
-The Space Between, Dave Matthews Band
