Only to awaken to the sound of total silence and look at my cell phone: 3:15.
I lay in the warmth of my bed, tossing a bit, turning, favoring my aching right leg, and gazing forlornly at the empty pillow beside me.
In a move which I have never regretted, a few months ago I decided I was going to invest in a full size bed. I wasn't ready for a queen yet, I knew, but full was a good step in that direction.
See, I had always slept in a twin bed. But then, in one of the three homes I had in Kenya, I ended up in a room with a queen. It was great. I loved it. And from then on, I knew I was ready for a bigger bed when I got home.
It was actually for a rather strange reason that I decided to go for a larger size. I mean, it's not like the left side of my bed is ever used. In fact, I have to rotate pillows regularly so that they get equal wear.
But I came to the conclusion a while back that as long as I slept in a twin bed, I was almost admitting to myself that I would always be alone. I wasn't even allowing for the possibility of someone sharing that space.
When I came back from Kenya, I felt like a grown-up. And I felt like I had to prove it to myself. So, I scoped out Freecycle until a full bed came up and I snagged it. It sat in my dad's garage until I moved into my current apartment, where I set it up and loved it. I wouldn't always be alone. Now, my abstinence was about choice, not necessity. And somehow, that meant more to me.
But now, as I gaze over at the empty pillow, as I imagine a warm body in that space and a ring on my finger, I long for that companionship.
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I'm learning as I get older (psh, really! I'm barely pushing 25!) that women tend to be more detail-oriented than men. This is why women will find a single clue, a shred of paper, a phone number jotted on a napkin, and will draw all sorts of conclusions. They'll overreact, call their friends, cry over the phone, and confront their husband as soon as he walks in the door.
But it's also why women plan the weddings, book the hotels, pay the bills, and organize the meals. Women are generally detail people.
So as I lie here trying desperately to get back to sleep, I find myself making detailed plans.
It started with a conversation had earlier today, about wanting to camp at Yosemite. My K.i.S.A. said, "I would love to go to Yosemite with my wife." I recoiled at the idea, thinking about a week without a shower, and smelly bodies and greasy hair and eating spam out of a can. It doesn't sound appealing to me.
But as I lay here in the early morning, a clear thought came into my head:
A Lodge.
Now, that's not so bad. Or, better yet...
A Cabin.
Ooh, that's starting to sound nice indeed.
Now, wait a minute, my brain said. My dad's boss has a cabin in the Lagunas. I bet we could borrow that. For how long? A week? That would be perfect!
And before I knew it, I was imagining myself driving up to this cabin in the mountains-- a cabin I've never seen-- and preparing it for my honeymoon. Turning down the sheets. Rose petals on the floor (Why is it always roses, I wonder as I sprinkle them across the headboard). Stocking the refrigerator with cheese, wine, crackers, strawberries, chocolate, and a few frozen meals to be put in the oven for an hour, 325ยบ F. Candles here and there. Open the windows to air out the space. Check the chimney for clogs. Shake out the area rugs.
I'm making a grocery list in my head.
No, I'm not planning a wedding.
No, I'm not even engaged.
I'm being silly, I realize. There's no reason for me to be thinking about this right now, but the thoughts won't go away. The more I try to fight it, the more pervasively it fills my head, forcing me to nail down details. Details.
Never mind that the big picture isn't even in progress yet. I have every detail planned to perfection, and it's 3 in the morning. I've learned my lesson.
I'm never going to bed this early again.
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