sleep deprived musings. 

I don’t know where you are, or what you’re doing — or even what language you call your own. But occasionally when sleep escapes my grasp, I think of you fondly, earnestly, yearningly. (More so, often, my heart is curious.) You, who I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting — yet.  

But I have so many hopes — and I am so filled with wonder. 

I wonder what your eyes have beared witness to — what’s made them glaze over with adulthood at too young an age. We all have our stories. What’s yours? (Maybe I’ll trust you with mine.) 

I wonder if you read, and if so, where’s your favourite hiding spot to surrender your mind to narrative? (Will you mind that I tend to read the last page first?)

I wonder if you have a good relationship with your parents — if your siblings look up to you.. or away from you. Do you enjoy being surrounded by loved ones? Or has that luxury been stolen away by life? Will you love my mom as much as me, or will it be a tolerance? (Perhaps, tolerance isn’t love.) 

I wonder what’s your favourite colour — and if you’ll let me try to paint it in your mind with words before we fall fast asleep. Are you visual or physical? And can we make love both ways to teach each other lessons of the soul? (Before Sleep takes you first.) 

I wonder if you’re patient with children and the elderly — but more importantly, if you’re kind to animals. Will you lay hours on end with me in bed watching cat videos? (Your turn the next night.) 

I wonder what you look like asleep — vulnerable, independent, mine. How many hours before work will I wake to watch your silhouette rise and fall with the sun? What noises will slip between your parted lips? What figure do you default to when absolutely overwhelmed with fatigue? (Will I be included in this form?) 

I wonder if your voice shakes when you’re angry. Are your emotions linked to tears? Will we fight more than we love? (I’ll fight for your love, always.) 

I wonder if how much I pull away from the world will frighten you. Will you become part of my alone time? Will you understand the ways in which I avoid conflict and conversation? (Another c word, to understand, compromise.) 

I wonder if you’ll let me photograph you. Will my affectionate obsession with your natural beauty flatter, or annoy you? Will it drive you wild when I record our conversations, so I can listen to them while I’m stuck in traffic, road rage, trying to desperately get home to your arms? (Is that weird?) 

I wonder who has broken your heart already — and do you consider yourself broken or whole, now? Do you stray away from attachment, or cling to the familiar, the comfort, the ever so changing landscape of love, love, love… (heartbreak changes us all.) 

I wonder who has touched you. Emotionally, I’ve already considered. I have my past — you’ll have yours, too. But who has laid their palms across your chest, your stomach, your inner thighs, tangled their fingers passionately between strands of your messy morning hair? Who has made you feel safe before dawn? (Will my hands be compared to those others before me?)

I wonder who you’ll introduce me to first. Will it be an acquaintance, best friend, family member? Do you take introductions as seriously as I do? Will you notice my nervous masked confidence before formal meetings? (Do you give off good first impressions?) 

I wonder what your idea of fun is. Do you like art, music, or dancing? I hope all the above… and more. I wonder what tastes and sounds and new sensations you will teach me. I hope you see with your heart as much as your eyes, and I wonder what your choice of passion is. Will we be able to discuss politics and religion, even if we disagree? I wonder how you’ll react to my inappropriate timing for laughter. (Are you fluent in sarcasm?)

I wonder so much about your past, current, and future life. I want to know all about it, for someone I don’t know, my thoughts tend to drift to you around this late hour. (I hope you think about me, too.) 

Until our universes collide (sweet dreams), 




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s