The One... The Only... The Vieve

I'm wide awake, it's almost morning

Wide awake before dawn. Not unusual for the early-waking insomniac I've been for as long as I can remember, but annoying and a little distressing all the same. So I'm out in the living room on the couch, writing this, with Antiques Roadshow FYI turned down low.

You're in the bedroom, flat on your back with your knee sticking up like a stork, sleeping hard. I almost wanted to wake you up, so you can wrap your arms around me and comfort me. I need that, but I'll still need it when you wake up, and you'll still be there in a few hours. Like you said, you're not going anywhere.

I'd like some things to just go away, like this sore throat I've had for a week. But they won't, I'll have to deal with them, and I will, I know, and it'll be OK, but I can't really do anything right now, and so I can simply stare at the ceiling and worry or write this and maybe worry a little less.

So I'll sit here with a little TV and a little Internet to distract me and quiet the anxious conversations that babble in my head, and listen to the pouring rain, and find recipes for Deviled Eggs (my traditional Super Bowl hors d'oeuvre), and wait for the sun to come up and for him to wake up from his deep sleep, full of dreams full of feeling. Just wait, for now.