short story

May 26th 2014

It was one of those sleep-in mornings Alex and I love so much. I’d get up, eat breakfast, take out the dog and then climb happily back into bed. I’d snuggle against Alex, crack open a book and read until I fell back asleep, completely content. Often, our animals would lay beside us, framing us in the bed. They embrace these lazy mornings almost as much as we do. However, on this memorial day in 2014, I was unable to fall back asleep. My anxiety took my mind on several winding paths that left me restless and panicked. When life is going relatively well, I cannot help but imagine the impending doom that surely awaits us. My thoughts whirled around, projecting various future tragedies and how I would be unable to cope. These tragedies greatly revolved around Alex. I’m so scared of losing him and in turn, losing how he makes me feel, losing our life together, losing the optimism he injects into our everyday that I can barely breathe, let alone appreciate the present. All this, and we aren’t even married yet. A phrase repeats itself over and over on mornings like this, “It can’t always be like this. It won’t always be like this.” And then he stirs, this marvelous man I’m about marry, and lays his lips on top of mine, too sleepy to actually kiss. I’m pulled back to the present tense, at lease for the moment. 




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