When I wake up, it's not pleasant,
Cold sweats, damp sheets, and a panicked mind.
When I wake up, the sun doesn't shine, it's still black out, the darkness an empty void that threatens to swallow me whole.
When I get out of bed, my legs tremble, not unlike a small child's when they first learn to walk, I fear my legs may give out, but they hold my weight, like they have every night before.
When I walk from the bedroom, the darkness follows, somehow the fear doesn't. From foe to friend I see the darkness as a blanket, hiding me from a world I'm not ready to face.
When I enter the kitchen, I hesitate to turn on the dim light in the corner. Soft enough to not chase away my blanket. But bright enough, to remind me the dark isn't all I have.
When I turn on the coffee pot, a familiar figure walks the hall I bravely ventured from only moments before and by the time the smell of rich coffee fills the room, my blanket is replaced by loving arms.
When I turn, I'm faced with my home, the place that makes the world, and darkness seem like empty thoughts, protective arms hold me in a way the darkness never could, gentle words dance into my mind and brighten my world more then any light.
When the far too loved mug, claimed as my favourite is full, I no longer need it, like so many nights before, it's left on the counter and
I.... I go back to sleep.
©lost-one
L