Around 5am: Once we finally fall asleep, it's a sound sleep.

:~:

I remember it's the first day of October before I even open my eyes. It's cool outside in the early mornings already. Who left the window open? My blankie has fallen off my shoulders and a light draft is blowing in across the bed.

My eyes open halfway, the foggy veil of sleep obscuring my view of the alarm clock on the other side of the room. I try to check the time on my watch, but my arm is wedged beneath me. I turn to see: a little after seven thirty. On two hours of sleep I am rested.

In any other set of circumstances I would have gotten out of bed and started my day. But its different today: somehow at the end of last night, we ended up in bed. The four of us that is, sleeping boy-girl across the two beds pushed together. It's cuddly and comfortable.

I am right here, right now and nothing other than this means anything to me. I want to die before this ends. I am at home.

:~:

Backlash is a bitch: I never want to sleep alone again. Sunday night, I crawl into my bed, which I haven't slept in for two days, and cry.