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Night After Night
She opened her eyes and groaned in response, knowing it had happened again. Looking up, she saw the young, handsome research assistant seated at her feet. He rose at the onset of her stirring to stand by her bedside. She closed her eyes again in an attempt to prolong the inevitable for she knew what was coming next, having been through it all countless times before.
She felt the bed shift as the young man sat down beside her and she opened her eyes once more. He smiled before lifting her hand, taking her pulse for the zillionth time. His task completed, he turned to her, the somewhat forced smile still pasted on his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she answered with caution, knowing what the next question would be and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to respond.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?” he prompted, on cue.
Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.
“Nothing at all?” he pressed.
Again she shook her head but this time, whispered, “No” as she did.
The smile faded from his face as he patted her hand before turning to write something on the chart he balanced on his lap. He murmured something about it being okay that she didn’t remember as he removed the little pieces of tape that held the electrodes on her head in place and wiped away the gooey residue left behind. He told her that whenever she was ready to get up, she could get dressed and wait in the other room. She nodded in response and closed her eyes once more.
She waited for the man to leave. When she heard the door close, she opened her eyes, then sat up and instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed and she felt like she might pass out from the sensation. It was always like this. Those things they stuck to her forehead and scalp always made her feel sick after she woke up. She wondered how much longer she would have to go through this. It had been almost two years since she had first started coming to the sleep center and so far, nothing had changed. She still had trouble falling asleep every night and she still woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept at all, even if she did manage to nod off for a short while.
She was always tired during the day from lack of sleep and it showed in her face. It was a constant struggle trying to stay awake during the day and then trying to fall asleep at night. So far, everything the specialists recommended hadn’t helped and she was beginning to think that nothing ever would.
She opened her eyes and groaned in response, knowing it had happened again. Looking up, she saw the young, handsome research assistant seated at her feet. He rose at the onset of her stirring to stand by her bedside. She closed her eyes again in an attempt to prolong the inevitable for she knew what was coming next, having been through it all countless times before.
She felt the bed shift as the young man sat down beside her and she opened her eyes once more. He smiled before lifting her hand, taking her pulse for the zillionth time. His task completed, he turned to her, the somewhat forced smile still pasted on his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she answered with caution, knowing what the next question would be and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to respond.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?” he prompted, on cue.
Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.
“Nothing at all?” he pressed.
Again she shook her head but this time, whispered, “No” as she did.
The smile faded from his face as he patted her hand before turning to write something on the chart he balanced on his lap. He murmured something about it being okay that she didn’t remember as he removed the little pieces of tape that held the electrodes on her head in place and wiped away the gooey residue left behind. He told her that whenever she was ready to get up, she could get dressed and wait in the other room. She nodded in response and closed her eyes once more.
She waited for the man to leave. When she heard the door close, she opened her eyes, then sat up and instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed and she felt like she might pass out from the sensation. It was always like this. Those things they stuck to her forehead and scalp always made her feel sick after she woke up. She wondered how much longer she would have to go through this. It had been almost two years since she had first started coming to the sleep center and so far, nothing had changed. She still had trouble falling asleep every night and she still woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept at all, even if she did manage to nod off for a short while.
She was always tired during the day from lack of sleep and it showed in her face. It was a constant struggle trying to stay awake during the day and then trying to fall asleep at night. So far, everything the specialists recommended hadn’t helped and she was beginning to think that nothing ever would.
She rose and began to dress as her thoughts returned to the remnants of the dream she had just had. It was the same as always: scant images of beautiful buildings with huge columns, people in white robes walking barefoot through rooms, women lying on stone slabs, mumbling incomprehensible utterances. It frightened her. The fact that the dreams were always the same was scary to be sure, but the fact that they somehow seemed familiar to her terrified her even more. It was one of the reasons why she never told anyone
about her dreams. She knew, or rather sensed, that they meant something, although she wasn’t sure what. Could it be that she wasn’t yet wise enough or experienced in the ways of the world to be able to make sense of them?
She wished she knew.
She finished dressing and wondered if she had maybe gotten up too soon. Her head still throbbed and she didn’t trust the stability of her legs to carry her without incident into the other room. She decided to lie back down until her head cleared. Once more, she stretched out on the bed, on her back, her face lifted toward the ceiling. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to stop. Her breathing came in short, haggard breaths as she tried without success to relax. After awhile, she felt her limbs grow
heavy and her breathing begin to deepen, as the headache subsided. She knew she should probably try to get up again, but she couldn’t for she felt herself being pulled back. Back to the columned buildings of her dream.
Back to the barefooted people in white robes who beckoned her in silence to return. As always, she felt powerless to resist and after a time, she stopped trying. It was so much easier to just give in. With a final sigh, she yielded, allowing herself to drift back to the dream once more, the same way she eventually always did, night after night.
She felt the bed shift as the young man sat down beside her and she opened her eyes once more. He smiled before lifting her hand, taking her pulse for the zillionth time. His task completed, he turned to her, the somewhat forced smile still pasted on his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she answered with caution, knowing what the next question would be and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to respond.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?” he prompted, on cue.
Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.
“Nothing at all?” he pressed.
Again she shook her head but this time, whispered, “No” as she did.
The smile faded from his face as he patted her hand before turning to write something on the chart he balanced on his lap. He murmured something about it being okay that she didn’t remember as he removed the little pieces of tape that held the electrodes on her head in place and wiped away the gooey residue left behind. He told her that whenever she was ready to get up, she could get dressed and wait in the other room. She nodded in response and closed her eyes once more.
She waited for the man to leave. When she heard the door close, she opened her eyes, then sat up and instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed and she felt like she might pass out from the sensation. It was always like this. Those things they stuck to her forehead and scalp always made her feel sick after she woke up. She wondered how much longer she would have to go through this. It had been almost two years since she had first started coming to the sleep center and so far, nothing had changed. She still had trouble falling asleep every night and she still woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept at all, even if she did manage to nod off for a short while.
She was always tired during the day from lack of sleep and it showed in her face. It was a constant struggle trying to stay awake during the day and then trying to fall asleep at night. So far, everything the specialists recommended hadn’t helped and she was beginning to think that nothing ever would.
She opened her eyes and groaned in response, knowing it had happened again. Looking up, she saw the young, handsome research assistant seated at her feet. He rose at the onset of her stirring to stand by her bedside. She closed her eyes again in an attempt to prolong the inevitable for she knew what was coming next, having been through it all countless times before.
She felt the bed shift as the young man sat down beside her and she opened her eyes once more. He smiled before lifting her hand, taking her pulse for the zillionth time. His task completed, he turned to her, the somewhat forced smile still pasted on his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
“Okay,” she answered with caution, knowing what the next question would be and knowing that she wouldn’t be able to respond.
“Do you remember what you were dreaming?” he prompted, on cue.
Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.
“Nothing at all?” he pressed.
Again she shook her head but this time, whispered, “No” as she did.
The smile faded from his face as he patted her hand before turning to write something on the chart he balanced on his lap. He murmured something about it being okay that she didn’t remember as he removed the little pieces of tape that held the electrodes on her head in place and wiped away the gooey residue left behind. He told her that whenever she was ready to get up, she could get dressed and wait in the other room. She nodded in response and closed her eyes once more.
She waited for the man to leave. When she heard the door close, she opened her eyes, then sat up and instantly regretted it. Her head throbbed and she felt like she might pass out from the sensation. It was always like this. Those things they stuck to her forehead and scalp always made her feel sick after she woke up. She wondered how much longer she would have to go through this. It had been almost two years since she had first started coming to the sleep center and so far, nothing had changed. She still had trouble falling asleep every night and she still woke up feeling like she hadn’t slept at all, even if she did manage to nod off for a short while.
She was always tired during the day from lack of sleep and it showed in her face. It was a constant struggle trying to stay awake during the day and then trying to fall asleep at night. So far, everything the specialists recommended hadn’t helped and she was beginning to think that nothing ever would.
She rose and began to dress as her thoughts returned to the remnants of the dream she had just had. It was the same as always: scant images of beautiful buildings with huge columns, people in white robes walking barefoot through rooms, women lying on stone slabs, mumbling incomprehensible utterances. It frightened her. The fact that the dreams were always the same was scary to be sure, but the fact that they somehow seemed familiar to her terrified her even more. It was one of the reasons why she never told anyone
about her dreams. She knew, or rather sensed, that they meant something, although she wasn’t sure what. Could it be that she wasn’t yet wise enough or experienced in the ways of the world to be able to make sense of them?
She wished she knew.
She finished dressing and wondered if she had maybe gotten up too soon. Her head still throbbed and she didn’t trust the stability of her legs to carry her without incident into the other room. She decided to lie back down until her head cleared. Once more, she stretched out on the bed, on her back, her face lifted toward the ceiling. She sighed and closed her eyes, willing the pounding in her head to stop. Her breathing came in short, haggard breaths as she tried without success to relax. After awhile, she felt her limbs grow
heavy and her breathing begin to deepen, as the headache subsided. She knew she should probably try to get up again, but she couldn’t for she felt herself being pulled back. Back to the columned buildings of her dream.
Back to the barefooted people in white robes who beckoned her in silence to return. As always, she felt powerless to resist and after a time, she stopped trying. It was so much easier to just give in. With a final sigh, she yielded, allowing herself to drift back to the dream once more, the same way she eventually always did, night after night.
Missed Opportunity
Now, what is it? he thought as he watched her leave. In the next moment, he felt his anger rising. “Dammit!” he imploded, unable to contain the building intensity of his rage. Why does this always have to happen? Every time he was certain that he would be able to spend some time with her, talk to her, explain himself to her with some clarity, something always seemed to interfere with his intentions and off she’d go. What the hell is wrong with
her?
He continued to anguish as he thought about all of the many opportunities he’d missed. The last time she’d run out, there hadn’t been any obvious reason that he could see. And then this time, she hadn’t even acknowledged him.
What is she thinking? That I would just stand by and accept being ignored?
As if he were nothing more than a mere fly on the wall of her life.
Well, that was about to change.
He would see to it.
her?
He continued to anguish as he thought about all of the many opportunities he’d missed. The last time she’d run out, there hadn’t been any obvious reason that he could see. And then this time, she hadn’t even acknowledged him.
What is she thinking? That I would just stand by and accept being ignored?
As if he were nothing more than a mere fly on the wall of her life.
Well, that was about to change.
He would see to it.
The Talk
“What the hell is going on? Why are you avoiding me?” he asked me, his confusion evident. He was looking at me with such dark intensity that I was stunned into silence. His tone echoed anger but I told myself that he was probably more hurt than anything else. His grip on my arms tightened even more as he waited for answers that didn’t come. “Tell me!” he ordered, after my silent gaze only seemed to spur his frustration.
“Let go, you’re hurting me!” I told him sharply. He released me then and we stood facing each other, our breathing labored with emotion as evidenced by the little puffs of white clouds which filled the cold air between us.
After a moment, he stepped forward to stroke my arms where his hands had squeezed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice now softened, his eyes full of pain.
“Let go, you’re hurting me!” I told him sharply. He released me then and we stood facing each other, our breathing labored with emotion as evidenced by the little puffs of white clouds which filled the cold air between us.
After a moment, he stepped forward to stroke my arms where his hands had squeezed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice now softened, his eyes full of pain.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, you know that, right?” He pulled me close, his breath in my hair while he continued to explain his emotional response to my detachment. “I just don’t understand what’s happening. I hate not knowing what’s going on with you.” He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes. “Can we start over?” His eyes were pleading for forgiveness.
“Come with me. Let’s sit over here on this bench and talk. Whatever is bothering you, I know we can work it out.”
He took my gloved hands and led me to a bench under a huge old oak tree, away from any passers-by. I allowed myself to be led, my breathing now slowing somewhat, but the feelings of heightened response I always felt in his company, were still prevalent. Damn it! I thought, annoyed by my involuntary response. He can still do this to me, even though right now I hate him almost as much as . . .
“Please tell me why you’ve been staying away from me.” His voice
interrupted my negative thoughts. “Has something happened to change your mind about us?” he implored. I looked up into his handsome face, now so forlorn, I almost reached out to touch him. But instead, I gathered up my courage with a mental shake.
I had to tell him how I felt. And I had to do it now before I lost my nerve.
I turned to face him and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I opted for now.
“Come with me. Let’s sit over here on this bench and talk. Whatever is bothering you, I know we can work it out.”
He took my gloved hands and led me to a bench under a huge old oak tree, away from any passers-by. I allowed myself to be led, my breathing now slowing somewhat, but the feelings of heightened response I always felt in his company, were still prevalent. Damn it! I thought, annoyed by my involuntary response. He can still do this to me, even though right now I hate him almost as much as . . .
“Please tell me why you’ve been staying away from me.” His voice
interrupted my negative thoughts. “Has something happened to change your mind about us?” he implored. I looked up into his handsome face, now so forlorn, I almost reached out to touch him. But instead, I gathered up my courage with a mental shake.
I had to tell him how I felt. And I had to do it now before I lost my nerve.
I turned to face him and took a deep breath. It was now or never.
I opted for now.
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