Good things DO come in small packages

A stranger silence than this I have not heard for decades. Slowly I awaken and glances to the left notice no strange thing to cause this. To heighten my sense of hearing my eyes close, double checking if perhaps everything I should hear is blocked out by having nodded off in my chair, but no difference. What caused this, no Doppler effect of sounds from cars in the distance on the highway, no inaudible murmurs from neighbours, nor from people walking their dog outside. It is probably best if I feel somewhat uneasy, instead I feel a sadness covering me. It all seems too different. Like I am not really here, not really being part of something.

Falling victim to a yawn my mouth smacks and there’s no reverb, no bounce on a wall coming back to me, as if the waves of sound aren’t planning on traveling to anywhere. Only now it sort of hits me that I am in my chair instead of in bed. I couldn’t be here long, but clearly it’s been long enough that I drifted off into a sleep. The computer is off, no lights are on, no fan turning circles to keep me cool during these late Summer nights. Maybe this is just the power that’s gone off, an outage of sorts – why this sadness then? My left cheek pulls up the corner of my mouth as if to hide a sigh and a bad memory from awakening alongside with me. Of course, the opposite happens, and my lips push together firmly and a real sigh escapes shortly after. There it is, why it’s silent, why I am sad. Raising my head, one hand flat on the chair’s arm support and the other on the table, I get up and turn to the left. However, I feel like I am not here, still not part of this all, it is still so silent.

Entering the bedroom, hand holding the edge of the door and pushing it to the left. It falls open to the inside, and another step and I am next to the bed. My hands slide over the edge of the unoccupied pillow and quietly the fabric soaks up the tear that like a ninja in the darkness of night found its path to attack and escape, as it rolled down my cheek and jumped to its destination on the pillow. My fingers curl into a fist but there’s no strength.

Knowing that I couldn’t fall asleep without you, I stayed in my chair and waited. And it’s not quiet around me, that’s just me being lost without you. Suddenly I need to walk back, the urge to turn around and not look back overwhelms me. I need to, .. I don’t know. Not be here. Stumbling over my own feet as panic grabs me by the throat, making me gasp for air, I fall to my knees in the hallway and come undone.

Vaguely sounds, as if talking in a vacuum, soothe me, warmth on my arm and chest lights me up as if someone is touching me, holding me down. Glistering light fills the room as the darkness disappears in front of me. The grip the panic has on me evaporates and with a shock I wake up hearing you say: “Calm down, everything’s okay”, holding me by my arm, calming me with your hand on my chest. “I think you’re having a bad dream”, and I hear noises again, a car’s door slamming close, two dogs barking over territory, and your words right next to me.

“I don’t want to be lost”, is all I can get out, but what I meant to say is that I don’t want to be without you, I would be lost. You place your head on my chest near my shoulder and pull my arm around you. My fingers touch the back of your hand that’s on my chest near my stomach and I think to myself that I could only do this with you. Find peace that is, and before I can say what a special little thing you are to me, you fall asleep with words imposing on me: “If you’re lost, I’ll find you”.