Now, as you lovely people know, I suffer from insomnia. It’s not pleasant. It’s not kind to me. But something that makes it more bearable is that my other half also suffers from insomnia. It results in sitting up until three in the morning, having talks about deep shit like literature, education and how freaking brilliant Knightmare actually is.

Last night though, was a bit of a nightmare in itself.

I couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t switch my head off. My body hurt (as it is wont to do) and I needed distraction.

So, I tried reading. It helped for a while, but the floods of tears I had been in didn’t hold up.



For ILB.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

I nodded through floods of snot and tears.

“Okay. How about we go to the lounge downstairs? It’s nice and hot and close to the kitchen. I can make you a cup of cocoa if you like.”

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the lounge. It was around eleven at night.

And we talked.

Talked and talked about disappointments, life goals, our relationship… things that mattered to us. And it helped. It helped a lot. There is a certain power in talking shit through with the one that knows you the best. Most of those dark nights, that’s the only thing that helps me. I feel safe with him. Protected by him. And we listen to each other. It’s good. It feels lovely.

That’s how we spend our insomnia-riddled nights. Reading, talking and laughing.

Although sometimes, sex happens.

Which helps.

A lot.



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1 Comment

  1. I know the agony of insomnia and I am so deeply happy you found a soul in the dark to share the secrets and pain with.


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