16Mar/09
Teddies don’t hug back
As I lay in bed at night, the tempting presence of sweet dreams hovering just out of my reach, I cannot help but think of you.
I have become so used to this nightly routine of insomnia and fantasy- well, maybe it is wishing- that I can effortlessly conjure a perfect image of your face behind my closed eyelids. I can feel your hands at my hips, your fingers tracing along my spine, your lips pressed against mine. I can feel your arms around me, pulling me closer until I could just melt away and become a part of you.
Then some noise- the creak of a stair, the slam of a door, maybe the washer changing cycles- brings me back to reality, cuddling a teddy bear in my cold, dark bedroom.
“Teddies don’t hug back, but sometimes they’re all you’ve got.”
So I guess my stuffed friend will just have to keep me company until I am back in your arms.
I have become so used to this nightly routine of insomnia and fantasy- well, maybe it is wishing- that I can effortlessly conjure a perfect image of your face behind my closed eyelids. I can feel your hands at my hips, your fingers tracing along my spine, your lips pressed against mine. I can feel your arms around me, pulling me closer until I could just melt away and become a part of you.
Then some noise- the creak of a stair, the slam of a door, maybe the washer changing cycles- brings me back to reality, cuddling a teddy bear in my cold, dark bedroom.
“Teddies don’t hug back, but sometimes they’re all you’ve got.”
So I guess my stuffed friend will just have to keep me company until I am back in your arms.
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