soporific

The clock strikes ten and the little girls have just fallen asleep. I let out a sigh. It is not heavy. It is ecstasy. It’s me-me time before I retire for the night.

I pull myself up gently so as not to disturb the youngest girl. She can be very sensitive, you know, and she likes to have me beside her. I’m not complaining. She sometimes places an arm on my neck just to check if I’m there.

I’m also very careful with the doors. Doors are tricky, don’t you think? They can get a little noisy when you go in and out through it. I figure they’re just like relationships. Sometimes you go in relationships with such a bang and go out of it with such silence, or vice versa, or in what ever your style. Doors can get messy, too, when you put oil to lubricate the hinges. It is usually the one who puts the oil who can get greasy, and that’s hard work to make things work.

As I come back with my so–called box of what, I carefully plump up a pillow to serve as bed table. Then I begin to write. This is me going back to basics ever since our PC died on us. This is me going back to elementary, high school, and college me. This is me plainly.

Then I hear the snores of my eldest competing with her father’s. I silently let out a laugh. It may sound cliché but yes, moments like these just tug at your heart strings. It is in these moments when you find yourself a little wrong at something you think was what’s right. It is these moments that those people who are quick to judge do not understand and most probably have not gone through or may never have the chance to go through. It is in these moments you see points you’ve refused to explore when you weigh things. It is in these moments that you get to smell the flowers; and if you now do, it is in these moments you can try to live through what it’s going to be like to do the thing you think was right and make it right. It is these moments you need.

As I tuck my pen, my so–called box, and my self to sleep, I stare at the ceiling for a minute or two thinking how easily one can get lost at life and at everything in between. I stare at the ceiling making a pact with myself to never get tired to make a pact with myself over and over again to never get tired. Then I sleep.