June 30, 2003
I forgot my toothbrush.
I know you're wondering why I never sleep over.
yes, we always have a good time together. yes, I like your roommate. I did wear my glasses and neither of us has to go to work tomorrow, but...
I just can't sleep over tonight, love.
it might just be because you snore.
or perhaps you talk in your sleep.
perhaps you're the one who starts out the night in the middle of the bed, spooning, your cool chest against my back and your arm under my pillow....but by mid-morning you're on the other side of the bed, curled in the fetal position and snuffling like a boy who's lost his momma.
maybe you do that dance thing with your legs in the moment before your dreaming mind disconnects from your dreamy body...the dance thing that sorely embarrasses you (and everyone else who thinks it only happens to them) such that you deny causing the bruises on my calves.
Maybe I secretly hate you.
maybe I hate how sleeping over can't just mean "I'm too tired to drive/take the train/walk home' or 'your bed is so comfy' or 'there's a really cool brunch place two blocks from here' or 'I'm not done with your skin yet.'
Maybe I don't like how sleeping over is supposed to mean 'I love you' or 'marry me' or 'my wife has been gone for so long, and I can't sleep without a girl'
Maybe I hate waking up in a strange room.
Maybe I just like sleeping in my own bed, pillows tucked under the duvet to fill the spaces where my cats used to sleep.
Maybe my coach turns into a pumpkin at midnight.
Maybe I secretly love you.
Maybe it's cause I hate when I wake up in the middle of the night to you slamming into me, unannounced, calling your sister's name.
Maybe it's because I never recovered from when your dog puked on my pillow.
Maybe it's because I get seasick in boats.
Maybe it's because you moan like a ghost from Scooby Doo.
Maybe it's because it's thursday, and everyone (except you, apparently) knows that thursdays I'm the creamy filling in the alan cumming/penn jillette sandwich.
but I promise, when I'm ready to sleep over, I'll let you know. I'll bring a toothbrush. I'll bring my ear plugs and sleep mask. I'll take you to brunch in the morning and I might even let you call me by your sister's name.
Posted by Heather at June 30, 2003 01:28 PM
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Did you and sour bob break up?
Posted by: rena at June 30, 2003 02:28 PM
Yes, she and Bob broke up weeks ago. He dumped her because he still loves his wife, and Heather was a poor, crazy substitute.
Posted by: M at June 30, 2003 05:41 PM
I'm a poor crazy substitute for everything!
unless you're looking for a good rubber duckie - I'm a fabulously perfect substitute for the popular bath toy.
p.s. sourbob isn't married. don't you mean 'he still loves his ex-wife'?
Posted by: heather at June 30, 2003 05:47 PM
I don't keep up on blog gossip or anything, but the Scooby Doo line ruled, as did several of the others.
Posted by: Greg at June 30, 2003 07:15 PM
Love this!! Love this!!
It doesn't matter WHO it is written for or too.... it's freaking wonderful!
Posted by: d at July 5, 2003 06:58 AM
over here we're secretly hoping his sister's name is estelle...
Posted by: dvl at July 5, 2003 08:22 PM
This is just gorgeous.
Posted by: bellis at July 23, 2003 01:59 PM
OH Hell NO!!! U guys are sp freakin crazy!
Posted by: Tina at April 13, 2004 05:54 AM