The Hard Nights

It's about 10:30 when I crawl into bed...trying to get comfortable in my skin...and I lie there staring into the mostly dark with the lightning playing its flashy game of peekaboo through the window.

And I stare.

And tap fingers on my stomach.

And roll eyes to look at the glowing numbers on my bedside clock.

Minutes. I've passed minutes.

Sigh.

These are the hard nights.

It isn't the night after a long day with the kids or a mentally exhausting day with house repairs or a day spent on the phone navigating my way through computerized voices only to be told computers are down, can I call back later.

Those are the nights when I crawl into bed happy the day is over, happy to have a reprieve, happy for the quiet. Those are the nights my eyes are almost closed before my head hits the pillow. Those are the easy nights.

Tonight my mind is full.

It is full of manuscript progress and things I learned in my research. It is full of another saving grace from the world-reboot no longer needed...and released...and the excitement of the next adventure. It is full of the things that kept a smile on my face throughout the day...that keeps a smile on my face now.

My mind is full...and my bed is empty.

And it is hard.

Because there is no one to tell about upper recievers and lower receivers and glass bedded anything. There is no one who cares that I FINALLY figured out that plot snag I have been trying to untangle for a week. No one is there to give testament to my stepping from one season to another. No one to smile with me or laugh or roll his eyes at a bad joke.

Those are hard nights...the full-heart crying empty nights...

...Not because I have no one to share my bed...but because I have no one to share my life.

And that is hard.