Your weight shifting on the edge of my bed woke me in a slight state of panic. I turned to see who the source of the weight belonged to. It was you, with your slight smile and a gentle hand resting on my hip over the top of my dramatic mountain of quilts and blankets sheltering me from the cold that I always whinge so much about.
My heart beat quickened to see you, relief swept over me like the comfort of an old friend.
Your voice always like a song, one that always spoke reason in to my life instructed me gently to get some sleep, to calm down, everything was alright. You got up, you looked out the window and surveyed the stars as though you were looking for some guidance.
I tried to close my eyes and drift off back to sleep like you suggested, but I was restless. You glanced back at me, closing my curtains to shut out the light that was peeking in to my room. You asked me why I looked so sad, but it was nothing that I could place my finger on. I wanted you to talk to me, to lay with