someone else’s bed

It’s a strange thing, someone else’s bed. It’s a territory that only the privileged get to trespass upon. I like my beds soft, billowy, voluptuous, a little bit like me. The bed I’ve been sleeping in is a flat surface, all hard lines and hospital corners. I don’t do tucking; I need room to roam in the night. Tucking is just restraint.

Like the eyes, a bed is the window into one’s soul. It’s where we begin and end the patterns in our lives, where we show our true selves. A messy bed equals a complicated psyche or a free spirit; a tidy bed equals an organized soul or a serial killer. Mine’s a mess, a big white cloud of disheveled down and cotton. I never make my bed unless company’s coming or I just really need a sense of structure in my life. I never got in the habit of pulling the sheets up in the morning. My mother didn’t create that pattern for me and like mother, like daughter, she doesn’t make her’s either.

What lies beside our bed can be just as telling as who lies within it because what’s on the horizon of the bed resembles what’s on the horizon of the life it sits beside. Bedside tables are the to do lists of the bedroom where books and magazines and alarm clocks creep into the peace and quiet of the night. A clean, cleared night stand or no night stand could be the sign of someone struggling to rid themselves of the clutter that the day gives us while stacks of books and glasses of half filled water could signal a loud, clamoring life that is reaching for answers from somewhere.

Who enters our bed, our psyche, is short list of person’s we deem important enough to witness the workings of our heads. Because hospital corners or clusters of covers can be the signal to abandon ship. Can “hospital corners” and “mountains of pillows” sleep in peace together? I’ve dealt well with the hospital corners for almost a week. I’ve slept soundly and effortlessly and I have not roamed. Maybe the disheveled pillows and stacks of books aren’t necessary for me. Maybe they are just space fillers. Maybe I can change and adapt to a minimalist approach to life. Or maybe I’ll just bring a book or two with me to bed tonight.

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