Late Again

I tossed back onto my other side again. My neck was starting to get stiff from the effort of craning around and looking at the clock. 11:45. He's late again. You should move the clock where you can just see it, my neck protested at me, my hand moving to gently caress the kink that'd developed there an hour ago. I reached toward the clock, thinking that my neck definitely deserved a reprieve, but stopped. If i moved it into my line of sight, then i'd just stare at it. 11:47. Damn. I let my hand fall uselessly back to the bed.

I turned over again and drew the shutters on my eyes, resolutely thinking of something else. We're out of bread and eggs, which means a trip to Wise Way. I do hate their prices, but they're the only ones around here who carry that whole grain Aunt Millie's bread that my husband likes so much.

I promised myself i'd never wait up for him again.

Ryan asked to go to Illinois to see his girlfriend this weekend, but he has yet to find a job, and i know damn well he's used up the gas money his mom sent for his birthday.

Where is he???

It's all fine and good that he decided not to make friends here in Indiana since it's so close to his old friends in Illinois, but damn it, that does NOT mean i'm responsible for financing his long-distance social life.

I've been lying here for two hours now.

Why don't THEY come out HERE for a change?!

I've been lying to myself for two hours now.

I jerked over onto my my back, abandoning my attempts at marshaling my mutinous thoughts. Angry, unshed tears stung at my eyes with their sharp, spiteful little fingers as i teetered on the blade-thin, blade-sharp edge between anger and despair. Why was i always the one left waiting up for him?! I let myself fall over the edge of despair, gliding gently downward on gossamer wings of self-pity. It just wasn't fair.

I felt my limbs grow heavy, and heard the nonsensical tangent of an unrelated thought whisper through me and did my best not to get excited. He was coming, after all. Weightlessly, i felt him press me down into my bed, and then out of myself. I felt him tether my arms to my body, wrapping me in his warmth, kissing the thoughts out of my mind and scattering them into the night air. I heard my husband snoring quietly next to me, and felt a vague, half-pang of jealousy that sleep always visited him first. I forgave them both, and let my consciousness slip out to go and play amongst my thoughts swirling around over my head.