(no subject)

The next morning I woke up with what I can only describe as a crying hangover. My eyes were swollen and bloodshot, I felt dehydrated and my head and chest still felt heavy. My limbs were stiff with a dull, stale ache from the night before. I immediately wished I were still asleep and in REM, dreaming about things that had nothing to do with my reality. That moment just after sleep when you haven't quite gained full consciousness and your mind is still on wherever it was when it was dreaming? I wish we could just stay there during times like these. Only vaguely aware of our surroundings, unable to process complex emotional trauma. Sigh

I lay there only making a half-assed attempt to will myself out of bed. I wanted to crumple myself up under my blanket and hide from the world today, and most definitely from him. I waited until I heard his footsteps go down the side steps and the door open and shut again as he left for work, and I heavily swung my legs over the side of the bed and just slouched there, working up the will to stand and then walk to the bathroom.