The Sleepless Night

Three o’ clock in the morning and I still cannot sleep. It has been a bad day. I feel useless, maybe I was.

I turn around and look at her comfortably sprawled all over her side of the bed, having no clue whatsoever how I felt, looking as innocent as ever.

Her hair spreading over the pillow like lightning in a rainy day—simply awe inspiring. If I concentrate hard enough, I can smell the shampoo she uses. The familiar smell that I had gotten so used to living with yet every time I smelt it, my heart skipped a beat because I knew she was around.
Her face, which she thought could not look good without make up, lay there in all its natural glory. Her pink lips forming a small smile as she dreams about something, which I could only believe was, pleasant as she is. I wanted to kiss them but I dare not since I might wake her up.

I remain content in watching for afar and admiring her small nose as I hear her take small breaths of air. Breaths which made her chest heave up and down stopping ever so slightly at each extreme. Her night dress sticks to her breasts ever so gently, outlining her curves. There is something about those curves that even after so many years I cannot get enough of. She shifts gently in her sleep, to uncover the body under her night dress.
I can see her navel. When she was getting it pierced, I had told her that it will not look good on her. I am glad that I had been wrong. At this point, I believed that any part of her body she might get pierced would instill in me a similar emotion.
My eyes wander to her hips. The slender curve of her waist as it signified the end of her belly and beginning of her buxom bottom. Her derriere rising from her waist had made me weak in the knees so many times.
In all, she looked like she had stepped out right from heaven’s door.

If an angel like this could believe in me, enough to stick around with me and bear me, there was no possible way I could be useless. There was no way in which I could have a bad day if I am returning to her at the end of it.

I put my hand on hers and gently kiss her cheek. It woke her up.

‘What are doing up this late?’ she speaks in a sleepy voice. It makes my heart jump. ‘Were you watching porn?’

‘No,’ I look at her, pull my covers back up and smile. ‘Something even better.’


8 thoughts on “The Sleepless Night

  1. Sleepless nights are not always a bad thing. Great photo! Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift came to mind when reading this, among other thoughts. Please write more like this. It is my favorite. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The amazing thing is that the love that oozes from your description can remain for sixty years and one hardly notices the graying hair, sagging skin, added weight. Thankfulness blossoms as one listens to the breathing that is no longer as quiet as it once was. Watching the chest raise and lower brings a sense of peace. And you realize there is never a need for porn when two become one.

    Liked by 1 person

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