Sharing sleep

I've travelled a lot for work in the last few months and am generally only home on the weekend. For the next two weeks I'm travelling with my sister. 

I miss my man so much. I miss the kisses when I get home at the end of the day, random hugs in the kitchen, eating real food (I load up on veggies on the weekends) and having his arm casually draped over me as he quietly snores and loudly farts away at night. 

A flatulent fellow, his trumpet bum often wakes me at night. Reverberations from the gases that eek out of his butt shake the bed. Men can be disgusting creatures. 

But I miss it when I can't be in his space overnight. The weight of his arm across my chest, the warmth of his stomach against my back, the soothing sound of his slow rhythmic breathing, the last kiss on my shoulder before he settles in to sleep, the way he rearranges the boys every time he rolls over. I miss it all. 

There's something special about sharing sleep that sets the day up right to begin with. Waking up next to the one you love is, in my opinion, the best part about morning. That micro step from drifting into slumber to awareness of self the next day is made so much more pleasant when in the arms of a loved one. While I am loving my holiday I am never planning to go away again without my man.