Commiserating with the ceiling fan
As I fail to sleep, for the depth of my nightmares, I watch him.
He has impossibly long eyelashes, that catch the beauty of sleep with a devastating beauty. His closed eyes, slightly swollen from the intensity of his rest, undisturbed and perfect. He sleeps.
I try not to wake him when I jolt myself awake. Dreams thick with oddly yellow eyes and fat, blunt fingertips bruising my skin. My heart hammers in its clumsy rhythm against my ribs, fragile with the weight of my breasts that shake when I cry. I turn into his back, or his shoulder, or close to his sleeping face and listen to the white noise of the air conditioner.
But, as I watch moonlight catch his fair lashes, long and colored with night shades I am almost overwhelmed to scream. I want to disturb his sleep. I want to shake him awake with my coward hands, clutch him to me like a blanket and worry my fingers across the softness of his skin. I want to share with him the vivid colors of my dreams. I want to open my dry mouth and let the fear and the weariness and the weakness fall out and over his perfect profile. I want to give it all to him so that for one day I can walk, unencumbered. I want to hand it all over so that for one night I can sleep, as open winged as a fresh butterfly.
Then I realize, as I turn away from him, that I would never do these things. I would never wish upon him what my eyes have seen. What my body has felt. I would rather him here, safe in this bed with me. I roll to lay on my back and wait for my heart to calm, watching the ceiling fan turn infinitely overhead.
October 21st, 2009 at 3:45 am
your love is a gift and i am so glad you have each other.
xoxo
October 21st, 2009 at 3:51 am
That safety, even just as a warm back in the middle of a nightmare-it’s a blessing. I’m glad for you.
October 21st, 2009 at 3:55 am
despite the frustration of the nightmares, it is wonderful to have a warm body next to you, whom you know protects you, even when they are sleeping.
October 21st, 2009 at 5:45 am
i love that you can watch him sleeping and still feel all that love. instead of just wanting to smack him so he stops snoring. not that that’s how i feel at night. i’m just sayin’
October 21st, 2009 at 6:05 am
This reminded me of a Lucinda Williams song. I forget which one.
You are kind to do that for him but sometimes you need to put it down, just for a little while, and let him carry, too. You deserve peace as much as he does. But that’s easy for me to say so I’ma shut up now.
October 21st, 2009 at 6:30 am
oh.
i was just thinking yesterday that you haven’t talked about therapy in a while. hope it’s going ok.
October 21st, 2009 at 6:35 am
We are similiar in our dreams…. the blessing for you is that there is someone next to you. For me the hope remains…
October 21st, 2009 at 6:44 am
Maggie said what I considered saying, all of it, and the part about shutting up, too.
“We get to carry each other . . . ”
Does he want that? Has he given you permission to wake him when you dream and startle yourself awake? Have you asked him for it? I know it may not be something you want, but it may be something HE wants . . .
October 21st, 2009 at 7:27 am
Sending a hug.
October 21st, 2009 at 8:28 am
So powerful.
October 21st, 2009 at 8:28 am
A beautiful image of a less than desirable situation…
October 21st, 2009 at 8:48 am
i don’t comment much, but i always read. always. love you.
October 21st, 2009 at 9:16 am
I’ve spent many a night haunting my own house after a wake-up-shuddering nightmare. Most times, I don’t wake my husband. But sometimes I do, I just need someone to wake up for a bit, to wrap me up tight, to chase the shadows back. It actually makes him feel better, too.
Very powerful post, Flutter.
October 21st, 2009 at 9:35 am
Fucking dreams!
So happy you have someone next to you, though.
xoxo
October 21st, 2009 at 10:16 am
I always curl up next to Josh when I have a bad dream. His heartbeat soothes me back to sleep.
October 21st, 2009 at 10:30 am
It never goes away, does it? Sometimes the snuggling works for me; sometimes I leave the bed. Can’t remember the last time I woke someone to comfort me in the night. Maybe we all need a call-in centre…
October 21st, 2009 at 10:35 am
Wow, Flutter. Heart-wrenching and beautiful, all at the same time.
October 21st, 2009 at 1:07 pm
There is nothing like waking from sleep and watching the person next to you…and to feel so utterly terrified. Now…when I do that? I am alone. It may actually be easier…but still just as scary…for totally different reasons.
October 21st, 2009 at 1:21 pm
Flutter I am so happy for you to have him in your bed, even if you don’t let him carry the pain, at least he is there for you to turn to while you lie awake.
October 21st, 2009 at 5:26 pm
I get this so completely, although with less traumatic dreams/memories. But whenever I am in the grips of fear in the darkness, I want to draw upon My Love for succor–to help me be less scared. However, part of loving him is that I don’t want to take him from his peace.
October 21st, 2009 at 6:20 pm
Oh, my God! I could’ve written this! It is eerily similar to something I have in my journal. I do the same thing – I need him, but I can’t wake him up and tell him why because I feel like it’s mine to keep and deal with on my own.
October 21st, 2009 at 7:01 pm
Oh, Christine! I LOVE YOU!
I wake up alone, and it’s awful, but I imagine waking up next to someone you are trying to protect is pretty awful, too!
You are PURE BEAUTY! You just are!
October 21st, 2009 at 8:01 pm
This is so powerful. You’ve exactly described why I’ll sit at my computer until I’m ready to drop dead rather than get into bed. Although my husband is my hero, my greatest source of comfort, and the place where I’m the safest, what terrifies me is inside of my head. I don’t want anyone else to be terrified by what’s in my head, especially someone I love. I finally started realizing that I could at least tell him that I am terrified, and why I’m terrified, even if I don’t (probably will never) burden him with the gory details. It helps a lot.
October 22nd, 2009 at 1:19 pm
Using whatever imagery works for you, try to tap into his peaceful sleep and syphon it off. Each time he exhales, he’s sending it to you.
October 22nd, 2009 at 3:56 pm
Poignant piece of writing.
October 22nd, 2009 at 7:09 pm
What a beautiful love. (But you know it’s ok to wake him up and say hold me, i had a bad dream, that’s what he’s there for)
October 22nd, 2009 at 9:18 pm
hi baby. hi.
hi.
xo
October 23rd, 2009 at 12:56 am
Oh sweetie. I wish I could whisk away those dreams for you.
October 23rd, 2009 at 9:31 am
Yes, nightmares and re-living the pain of unendurable events gone by places us in a strange position doesn’t it? We so want and need comfort, but not at any cost … and the cost of re-visiting these horrors with a loved one in-tow is too high. There is some comfort perhaps in knowing that the ones we love cannot possibly imagine how it was and so do not bear the scars of how it even now is.
I wish you sweeter dreams. xx Jos
October 23rd, 2009 at 3:07 pm
I so feel you. What you wrote is something only a few can understand, and sadly I can say I get it.
October 23rd, 2009 at 8:11 pm
all of our burdens, they are heavy enough to share. he is there and willing. Roll into him, hold him, he knows.
October 24th, 2009 at 8:46 am
My Darling Friend… I wish you knew how often I think of you… of how true you are… how lovely I know you are… even in the middle of the night, I wish you knew.
October 24th, 2009 at 5:17 pm
love you.
October 25th, 2009 at 3:34 pm
wishing for you butterfly nights
October 25th, 2009 at 8:04 pm
Sweetie: I am so sorry for these dreams, this pain. I hope that you find peace soon. Know that maybe, just maybe he will be alright to hold it for you. That maybe, just maybe he WANTS to hold it for you. Love will do that. Make you want to hold someone else’s pain for just awhile so they can rest.
May you find peace and rest in sleep.
October 26th, 2009 at 7:02 pm
When I snuggle up to my husband at night, he usually farts. You are so lucky. (Not to make a joke, but this seriously was the first thing I thought when I read this post.)
October 26th, 2009 at 9:04 pm
Isn’t it crazy . . . we have so much to say, so much we want to share, yet not a word do we utter. Fearful our minds and heavy our hearts . . .we ache to protect.
Crazy. Us.
October 27th, 2009 at 6:14 pm
Of course, you know I understand. That panic, that fear in the night. I’m sorry you feel that. I wish I could take it away for you. Instead, I offer my ears and eyes.
I always find it amazing how just reaching out and touching him makes my heart beat slower.
October 28th, 2009 at 3:59 am
Your worried fingers are gorgeous.
I’m glad you have him near.
xo
erin
October 28th, 2009 at 9:07 am
Big squishy hugs. I love you! Lots.
October 28th, 2009 at 10:43 am
So beautiful and poignant. (I know. I’m reusing the words. But they are the ones I want to use.)
I wish you some happy dreams.
October 29th, 2009 at 6:41 am
I always think P is at her most beautiful when sleeping. Unless she is snoring or dribbling.
October 29th, 2009 at 6:50 am
Am trying to think of something that hasn’t been already said. But I can’t. It is a beautiful post. (Whenever I want some literary Godiva chocolate, I come to your site.) Reading your luxurious words. Am sorry for the horrid nightmares. But am happy you take solace in your honey even while he’s sleeping.
October 31st, 2009 at 2:57 am
this is so moving and so eloquent. many hugs.
October 31st, 2009 at 7:30 am
We never want to lay that kind of pain on whom we love…but it is some comfort to know that we could if we needed to…even better to know that they would be there to carry us, if we did. A glimpse into the meaning of love, I think.
Sweet dreams, my dear. We watch the fan, and wait…
November 2nd, 2009 at 1:30 pm
I’m glad he was there, even if he wasn’t awake.
November 3rd, 2009 at 8:21 am
He is the warmth and goodness that turns your nightmares to ethereal dreams. I’m so glad you have him.
November 3rd, 2009 at 11:09 pm
you leave me speechless, so often. but i am here. xo
November 4th, 2009 at 4:52 am
Thank you for commenting on my post at VU (Calla). I have screamed into a towel in the bathroom in the middle of the night myself, haunted by emotions that nightmares have brought. I understand about wishing for true comprehension yet not wanting to actually show your beloved what you see. Good to know you are here, flutter.
November 4th, 2009 at 10:16 am
To be able to wake up to that ‘security’ right beside you, is more than a sweet in the mouth to calm the soul….
*wink*
November 4th, 2009 at 2:04 pm
How’s the book writing coming? Any queries? What’s happening?
November 5th, 2009 at 10:02 pm
Wait. Air conditioning. Ceiling fan. In November? I can’t even fathom…
If I could hug you, I would.
November 7th, 2009 at 2:19 pm
How well I knowest the turn of the ceiling fan blades.
November 9th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
Eyelashes to die in…and drink of his safety. So lovely that you feel that safe with him.