Thursday, March 16, 2006

You can never go home again

Last night I ended up collapsed on my bed crying.

Now usually when I cry I get very very still and very very quiet and tears just roll down my cheeks. But last night I was on my bed and almost sobbing (I was very tired). And when Craig got back from his shower I pretended to be reading and succeded quite well, but after we turned out the lights I couldn't stop my body from shaking.
And why?
Because it was the full moon and I couldn't sleep with my curtains open and moonlight streaming in. OF COURSE.

My childhood bedroom (well, my bedroom from ages 8 - 22, aka MOST OF MY LIFE) was the upstairs corner bedroom in our house, I had windows stretching most of the way around the north and east facing walls and as there were no other 2-storey buildings nearby I slept with my windows open. Quite often with wet hair. What? I was building up my uh immunity to colds.
Like that I could see stars and it was almost never fully dark in my room, just paling and navy-blue. In summers I would wake with the sun.
I would sleep with the windows open and piles of blankets on my bed, it was hard to get up in the mornings but the air never smells so clean as at midnight.
The full moon was my favourite time (it always has been) and last night it hit me that I would never sleep with it streaming in those windows, it would never be my room again.
My littlest sister moved in as soon as I moved out, and now ... I'm married.
I don't think I'd ever grieved after moving out, because what people usually miss is their families, and mine are so so close. I never thought I would miss a room so much.
Craig of course held me, let me leak tears all over him, and he pressed his cheek against my forehead.
Somethings are worth a little sacrifice.

Plus, there will always be more windows, and I don't think the moon is going anywhere.

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