...

I couldn’t sleep. partially because any whimsical fantasy that may permeate my dreams can’t even come close to my reality and partially because the ceaseless popping renders me a romantic. Seemingly groggy, I roll out of bed and replace my pajama pants with some skinny black jeans but leave the shirt I’ve slept in on; It’s his anyways. Stumbling in the dark I jingle on my bracelets, aimlessly brush my teeth, and slip on my favorite ankle boots. I silently open the door, praying my roommate doesn’t stir from the jingle of my necklace, bracelets, or keys; and I’m gone. I walk amongst the lonely sounds and empty solitude of everything that isn’t 5:30 in the morning. I hide my fear of the morning in my steadfast strut towards his house. I hear nothing but the ‘click, click, click’ of my boots on the pavement, and the ‘jingle, ching, jingle’ of my necklace of keys. I always know I’m just about there when I can smell the remnants of oil and French fries wafting from the Jack-n-the-box right before his house.
The door is locked. I punch in the code that he doesn’t remember telling me, and let myself in. I turn to quietly close the door so that I don’t wake his roommates. Removing my boots, I stammer up the stairs. A sullenly somber face paints itself upon my demeanor as I wander past his empty kitchen and living room (he kissed me on that couch). I open his door and pretend to be much cooler and more relaxed than I let on. MY HEART IS POUNDING. I set down my boots, remove my oversized and highwaisted belt, slip off my bracelets, hang up my necklace, set my glasses on his desk, and slip into bed, pulling his right arm around my waist as I overwhelm myself with his sleep.
tirelessly, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him. A simple kiss on my shoulder and he falls back to sleep. I set my alarm for 7:40am and slip my phone beneath the pillow. Surrendering to his sleep, I loose myself in his arms. Even now, I close my eyes and imagine his right arm reaching around my waist to pull me towards him to fit perfectly in his arms. And I tell myself that this man’s subconscious cannot lie.