Saturday, December 4, 2010
Bedsheets and the Nook
Last night, I'd spent the night at Daisy's house so that I could drop her off at the airport this morning. On the way to the airport, I'd told Daisy that although I love Pookie with all of my heart, I tell her that there are things about him that I don't know if I could deal with forever if we ever got married. Daisy then reminded me that almost all married couples feel the same way and that I shouldn't let one or two things keep me from him. I was so relieved to hear her say that because she was right.
Before I left last night I threw our bedsheets in the washer and dryer. Pookie was at work that evening, but I suspected that he'd be so exhausted by the time he got home that he wouldn't fuss with the sheets, but instead go straight to sleep without them. When I got home this morning, I immediately climbed into bed and went back to sleep. A few hours later, I woke up and realized there still hadn't been any sheets on the bed. I didn't care though. Pookie and I held one another as his arms wrapped around me. Strangely enough when we first started dating he told me that he couldn't sleep holding another person. And now here he is, contouring himself to me in his sleep. Every time my legs moved, so did his. Our feet tickled one another. I was in heaven. I heard his heart beat. I felt his chest heave in and out as he breathed silently. I thought back on when I heard Fred's heart beat and I realized that this was different. This wasn't temporary. This wasn't borrowed. This wasn't about him trying to get into my pants. This was me with the man that holds my heart and loves me regardless. This was the man that held me in his sleep and grabbed my waist and pulled me close to him while we rested together.
A moment later I looked up at the bed and thought about the missing sheets. It triggered a memory. I thought about one of my last conversations with David. After his hooker found out about us, he suddenly became cold and callous. He yelled at me. He told me I'd meant nothing to him. I reminded him of me driving him around and being there for him when he had nothing for nearly 10 years. I told him that I'd loved him more than I'd loved myself. That's when he said to me that if I'd loved him, I'd have put sheets on the bed. To be brief, one morning when we were together, I woke up at 6 in the morning to go get him from work and for some reason, there was no sheets on the bed and he'd complained about it. I was exhausted and didn't care and told him to sleep without them. And now here, he didn't respect me enough just to say, no offense Malika, but I gotta take care of home (which I would have respected, since I was the one that had urged him to marry the disease infested tramp in the first place). The only way he could justify his lack of compassion toward me was the fucking sheets.
I sat back and thanked my lucky stars for finding a man that loves me so much. I literally have to tear myself away from him as we kiss each other goodbye when he leaves for work. I also thanked the heavens that I found a man that loves me for me. Pookie loves me honestly. I never pretended to be someone that I wasn't. I never had to degrade or haggle with his exwife (although, I must admit that my pregnancy hormones didn't always equate to me being lady like all of the time). He is too much of a man to want women fighting over him. He hates conflict in our home. When I'm pissed off and want to shut down, he's the one that tells me to grow up and share what's on my mind. Whenever there was a woman sniffing around him, I urged him to be with her if that's what he chose. But he always came back to me. I'm a woman that loves honestly and it takes a real man to recognize and appreciate that.
I lay my fingers in between Pookie's and squeezed. He squeezed back. His hands were so large and soft, yet manly next to my dainty fingers. He shifted a little and squeezed me further in.
A few days ago, I watched an old episode of Sex and the City and in it, Carrie pissed off her boyfriend, Aidan. I don't remember what the conflict was, but even though he said there was no problem, she could tell that there was because when they were laying in bed, she said there was no "nook." She explained the nook as the part of the man's body by his armpit, where the woman curls up when they cuddle. Him keeping his arms close to himself meant he didn't want to cuddle. I know the nook and I'm a fan of it myself.
I got up for a second and came back to the bed. He was awake by then and stretched his arm out to anticipate holding me when I reentered the bed. Pookie had my nook waiting. And even with no sheets, it was perfect for both of us.