Day 454 - Ode to 4:16am

The alarm goes off but I don't hear it. But I hear the door as you slip outside. I've still got a few minutes.

The sheets cool off as I try to curl into them and trap your heat. It escapes anyway. 

I hear the door again. I feel your arms around me, and wrap mine around you, and tuck my head into you.

And then you're gone. 

And I can't sleep. 

It wasn't always like this. In the beginning, it was my favorite part of the night. No longer fighting you for my designated foot of space. No longer overheated by your furnace of a body. No longer worrying if my tossing and turning will wake you. No longer fighting you for the covers you like to throw off and get tangled in. 

But now... unless we're tangled or touching I can't get comfortable. Now I need your heat to balance out my stolen blankets. Now I need to be fighting for my foot, and tucked into you, to feel comfortable. You keep me still. Now...

The house is too quiet. The sheets are too cold. I've got far too much room to get comfortable. It's a useless fight. So it's my wake up time too.

Around 6, when the sun starts to come up, and the birds start to move, and it's not so quiet, and it's not so cool, I can finish the night. A last hour or two. 

That's why I'm so tired in the mornings. I haven't been up as long as you, or working. But I'm still pretty beat. It's my morning routine. Missing you.