Up All Night

I have been in fighting relationships before, relationships that turned me into a yeller, and relationships that turned me into a mouse. With a couple of boyfriends, the authorities have yet to find the bodies. It is nice to finally be in a relationship where we rarely, if ever, argue. Sure, we’ve had some blow-ups over the past year, but Matt finally backed his bus out of the cul-de-sac and parked on my street, leaving us nothing but time on our hands, always happy.

When we do fight is while we’re sleeping. Each night I have to come up with my escape route for Matt’s utterly chaotic 8-or-so hours of slumber. I have never experienced anything quite like it.

First of all, he talks in his sleep. No secrets have ever been revealed, but often he’ll sit up and say things like, “I told you not to go in there!” or “Damn it, I don’t know!” and I wake up thinking, “What the hell?” He’s a vivid dreamer, and he physically participates in them.

The avalanche: Often times, in the middle of the night, Matt lifts the blankets and sheet, rolls over in mid-air and “lands” on me, while also pushing me to the edge of the bed. Regularly, this leaves me less than 1 inch of personal space in which to, ahem, rest.

The gate: When I feel the avalanche about to erupt, I lock one leg down, creating a gate that he can’t get past. This eliminates being completely pushed off the bed, which I have experienced. When getting pushed off the bed I simply get up, go to his side and sleep on his pillow until the avalanche erupts in the other direction.

A tip for sleeping with someone like this: always keep a reserve of blankets wadded up near your head so that you can fist them pretty quickly. Obviously, I’m a light sleeper, and can think through these scenarios consciously, reacting appropriately.

After Matt’s consumed a few beers and/or a few glasses of wine, I really must be on my toes, so to speak. Last week, after being pushed off the bed at 3 am, I got up and took digital photos of him lying in the pile of blankets...on my side of the bed. I showed him my proof in the morning, threatening to publish it here. He shrugged. I really don't scare him, I'm afraid.

I like the idea of spooning, but I'm a spooning menace. I mean, it’s nice to start out that way, but within ten minutes I’m usually hot or uncomfortable. But I find him in the middle of the night, snuggle and get warm again then I shut the gate.

Almost every morning I have a sleeping story to relay; I usually threaten him “if it happens again…”, and we laugh.