I was referred by a post on A Cup of Jo to an article in The Atlantic, “Why We Sleep Together”. One part of the article makes the observation that, “It’s important to talk about our days lying side by side, discuss children and household situations, gossip about neighbors and colleagues, plan for tomorrow in the confines of private chambers.”
This article hit home for me as I am a fan of the nights where J and I curl up under the covers, turn out the lights, and fill the darkness with our secrets, our fears, our future plans and belly laughs (So sorry, Mister and Misses Neighbor!). The dark, as scary as we believed it to be when we were young, now provides a sense of security. With the house dark, save for the light-play of the tree branches in the moonlight projected on the wall, I feel safe sharing, writing, and pouring myself out.
Some nights, the trading of stories and spilling of secrets lasts into the wee hours of the following morning—but I’m not bothered by it. If anything, I wake the next day with an extra bit of light in my eyes and spring in my step because of the love that’s washed in and over and all around me as I lie in the dark and whispering my struggles and listening to J tell me his worries and his hopes before wrapping an arm around my middle, burying his face in my shoulder, and whispering “have a good sleep.”
As The Atlantic article states, “We are creatures of attachment.” And boy am I. I am attached at the heart and mind to one of the most thoughtful, loving, hard-working, beautiful men in all the world. And I know I have this little habit to thank for a great deal of the bond we’ve built over the last
three months forever.