My former partner and I stopped sleeping in the same bed decades ago and eventually the same room, and finally to floors below each other. Just what turned me out like a pandering witch from the master bedroom is uncertain. As I recall, it was due to the fact that I was heavier and his night time ritual felt like those hapless supernumeraries holding on to any edge on the Titanic as the transatlantic behemoth lifted out of the water after it broke in half and plunged headlong into the icy depths.
Further, he added, that he often felt that as though he kept log rolling throughout the night and onto my Shrek-like form. When you think about it, there are worse things than falling into the doughy, green puffs of an ogre! Another reason was our sleep schedules: I went to sleep earlier and rose earlier; he went to bed later and rose later. And finally, it was simply because we kept each other awake whether it snoring, tossing or turning.
But what was it really? Was it really a distress signal like that telegraph on the bridge of the Titanic? Or did we find that the bedroom was not a place where we were compatible? Whatever the reason I’m sure it shook the foundation of our already quaking relationship.
According to the September 2017 issue of GQ Magazine, Jeff Vrabel writes, “In fact, one study says that 40 percent of adult couples have already sleep-divorced.”
Gee Jeff, which study is that? Obviously, it’s a study that panders to a particular population that is sleep-divorced. Oh, and just because 40 percent is, it also means that 60 percent isn’t!
Well, Abram and I aren’t. We drift slowly and quietly asleep like the snow that swirls around pines in the vast wilderness of British Columbia. When we toss and turn we’re like boats moored to docks. And when we snore we’re like two men that love loving the other.
I’m wholly disinterested in disengaging myself from Abram’s arms for any reason. And especially when night bathes our eyes in the twilight.