In The Bubble

In those magic hours before the dawn, the time when the light is just starting to break the night, when you toss and feel the other body too close, I whisper, “Please go away. Move over to your side."

A moan comes from the still form, he’s half asleep. The heavy arm moves. Then a leg, finally that body rolls over.

I am released from the heavy body. I can finally breathe.

All night I dreamt I was inside a great bubble. I pushed against the sides. The bubble never burst. It moved, it breathed. The more I pushed the more it resisted.

Struggling to get up, I kicked and punched the bubble. It finally gave way, smashed to pieces. I woke to find myself in the middle of the bed, a blanket wrapped about me. The man sleeping beside me, his snoring, his rumbling, oblivious to my struggle in that bubble.

Standing on shaky legs, I made my way to the bathroom. Dim light from the rising sun reflected off the mirror to highlight my haggard face. The struggle was real, it shows in my eyes, my sticking-up hair, my ashen skin.

A form appears behind me. “Why are you awake?” it says. I turn to see nothing. No one. The sun shines just a bit brighter. The light bounces off the mirror.

When I return to the bedroom, the man is still sleeping. He has not moved from his assigned spot in the bed. I slip in beside him.

Sleep evades me, it is light now. It is day. Time to start the day again. But the man won’t let me go. I slip again into that bubble. I am trapped. I cannot see a way out. So I roll over and start the chant. The chant that will help me forget the bubble. Forget where I am. Learn to live inside the bubble. Until one day I can be free.

W/C 323