I wonder where all the butterflies in my stomach went to. Distrusted and now I know what’s real. The melt. The sleep. The cocoon. The sluggish feeling of safety where one can bask in bed with another. That’s what I miss.
And then night terrors and coils and swivels makes it impossible, I’m the worst.
Cuddler extraordinaire.
My cat deserves my bed more than I do though.
She doesn’t sleep in here every night or day but damn.
She looks cozier than I’ve ever been and I can’t afford the guilt of moving her I just get up and sit at my chairs even if a nap is calling.
Where does that guilt come from?
Give up a whole queen sized bed because how I flipped the covers covered her in the cutest cocoon?
Empathy.
She knows I like to sleep like that and see what’s so nice about it lol.
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