What He Doesn’t Know.

He says I can sleep all morning because I stay up so late.

Watching movies.

Doing crafts.

He doesn’t know that when the door closes before the suns even up, I’m wide awake, in a room that seems nearly empty-minus tiny snores and feet in my face.

He doesn’t know that I stay up so late with a three year old draped sweatily across me and him snoring next to me and relish in the moment, give thanks for all that I have, and can’t sleep because my heart and brain are so intoxicated by their unspoken love and the feeling is so wonderful that I can’t fall asleep.

He doesn’t know, almost every thought I have involves them, and to me they are like a drug, keeping me awake, causing me to be happily exhausted, forcing late nights and early mornings.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s