Was not a happy camper when I got up for work last Monday. So exhausted. Had had about 2 hrs of sleep. But I'd already missed Sunday because of the on-going attack of insomnia. Couldn't call in sick again.
To make matters worse, I'd fallen asleep on the smaller couch in the living room. We have a two-seater and a three-seater and I'd picked the two-seater to sleep on. Not comfortable for someone of my height. So I had all sorts of muscle cramps and a splitting headache to go with the sleep-deprivation.
But I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower all the same. The water helped a bit. Got dressed for work. Actually had the door open. But something made me decide I wanted to be late. I convinced myself a cup of strong coffee and two cigarettes would clear my head and make me a safer driver than I usually am in the mornings.
So there I was standing in the kitchen about to pour out the coffee when I heard the key turning in the front door. I just froze still holding the container of hot coffee out of the coffee maker over my mug. I'd given the spare key to my friend who was staying with me a while back but I distinctly remembered her returning it. And the only other person who had a key was supposed to be in Sweden.
But he wasn't in Sweden. I stood there as the door opened and I heard him come in. I didn't move when I heard the door close behind him. It was so surreal. I remember wondering if I was really awake yet or if all of this was happening in a dream. God knows I'd had enough of those dreams.
Then he was standing infront of me, taking the coffee container out of my hand and setting it down. Then taking me in his arms and just holding me, squeezing so hard it hurt.
I guess he sensed the unnatural stillness because the hug ended abruptly. Instead I felt his hands in my hair, pushing it out of my face and tilting my face up to him, the way he always does when he isn't sure what I'm thinking or is about to ask me questions he thinks I might not want to answer.
He asked if I was ok. All I could do was ask him why he didn't tell me. My voice sounded funny. I sounded like I had something in stuck in my throat.
He said he wasn't sure until the last minute that he could make it, and didn't want to tell me and then have to cancel. I asked if he couldn't have called me before he got on the plane. He said I would have been asleep. I said no I wouldn't have. He said well I didn't want to wake you if you were.
And he started talking, telling me when the idea came up, how he made all the arrangements sounding really pleased with himself. And at some point, I tuned it all out. Was just watching. I was so starved for that, for just looking at him.
At some point he realized I wasn't listening. He went silent for a second then said let me take you inside. I nodded my head. He leaned down and picked me up off the floor. I had the stupid thought he must really be here because I'm being carried around. No one else has carried me around since I was about 7 or 8.
The funny thing is, once we were in bed, sleep - which had completely eluded me for days before - suddenly descended on me. I literally couldn't keep my eyes open. I started crying in his arms because I so desperately wanted to sleep but just as desperately wanted him. He was saying it was ok, that he will stay with me, that we had time. I wanted to ask how much time but I fell asleep before I could.
I slept for almost 5 hours and woke up still in his arms.
He left this afternoon. We didn't have nearly enough time for everything I wanted to do with him.
And after those first 5 hours, I didn't sleep at all. 4 days. Not even when he slept.
So right now I'm back on the couch - the bigger one this time. Not yet ready to face the bed now that he's gone. I have sand inside both lids. Here's hoping I crash for a long, long time.