"While he slept"
By: Christie Taylor
As I lie here, watching my lover sleep, I think about my life. True, it's not where I thought I'd be at 19, but who really ever ends up where they expected? Life takes us in so many different directions it's nearly impossible to predict where you'll end up. As a child, you always have this idea of where you'll go, and what you'll do when you grow up, but it's all make-believe. No one can really say they are exactly where they dreamed as a child. Anyone who does say that is definitely not present in the real world.
I glance at the violent red numbers on the digital clock, 3:30 am. I should really be asleep, these days I need all the rest I can get. Were my bedmate awake, he would probably chastise me for being up at this late hour. I smile lovingly at him, in his present state of sweet oblivion. Then I rise from the bed and slip on my pink satin robe. The material is cool, and stings my warm skin at first contact. I walk to the window and sit on the ledge.
Where is it that time escapes to? It's like the socks that get lost in the wash, you know you put them in, but they don't come out, where exactly do they go? Is there like a collection of socks sitting under everyone's washer? Okay, bad analogy. But I can remember when time seemed endless, all my teenage life. Then things were simple. There weren't bills to pay, or food to be put on the table. I was forced to grow up before I was ready. I yearn for those carefree high school days so much sometimes.
Again I rise, and step away from the window. I wander from my bedroom, not really going anywhere, just wanting to walk. I somehow end up in the room down the hall, leaning over her crib. I can't even begin to imagine how God could create such a beautiful little being, so small, and in the perfect likeness of him and I. I reach down and stroke her soft blonde curls. There never was such a soft material as the soft hair of a newborn child. She stirs slightly, but doesn't wake. Thank God for small favors, I don't think I could stand another feeding today. My breasts are already sore from my hungry little daughter. I stare a minute longer, then tear my eyes away. I stand for a moment looking around the nursery, not really wanting to stay, but not willing to go.
Eventually I lightly shut her door and walk back down the hall, intending to try and get some much needed sleep, but I'm drawn to the pictures that line the hallway. So many memories reside here. I stare at each picture and bask in each memory. Some are more enjoyable than others to think about, but all are a part of my past. Suddenly my knees buckle and can no longer support my weight; I fall to the ground with a resounding 'thump'. This has been happening a lot lately, since I had the baby. She took a lot out of me that little girl did.
I sit for a moment longer just until I have the strength to get up. Then I force myself back into my room. I slip my robe off and settle back into my bed. Just as I close my eyes his voice surrounds me.
"Where'd you go?" It's low and thick with sleep.
"Just to check on Lily"
"Oh, okay. Sleep well baby." His eyes close slowly.
"You too, I love you Michael."
"Love you too Ria." He mumbles almost inaudibly.
I finally close my eyes. I can feel sleep grow closer by the second. My last coherent thought before I drift into a peaceful slumber is that maybe this wasn't where I had planned to be, but now that I'm here, it's not so bad.