Last night I awoke to the sound of his moaning in fear, “It’s on the third step! It’s on the third step!” I nudged[10] him into a more wakeful state. “Skip the third step, Sweetie,” I suggested. “Try going right from the second step to the fourth step.”
“Can I do that?” he whispered.
“Of course you can,” I soothed[11].
He fell back into deep sleep, smiling. I enjoyed 10 wonderful minutes of calm before the sound and fury started up again.
Because Mark sleeps through it all, from his point of view, I’m the awful bed partner, the harpy who spends the night inexplicably shouting, “Cut that out! ” and pushing him around.[12] He’ll pin[13] me under the dead weight of a restless leg. I’ll shove[14] it off. He’ll attempt to roll over onto me. I’ll push him away. He’ll cry out. I’ll shush[15] him. After I’ve woken up a dozen times, my responses can become quite testy[16], if not rude. OK, downright[17] hostile. By the time we rise from bed in the morning, it’s a wonder we’re still talking to each other.
Many of my friends sleep apart from their partners because of snoring. My Internet research tells me that 25 percent of the population snores. And 80 percent of couples with a snorer sleep in separate bedrooms! I also learned that astronauts rarely snore in space. Even if you snore on planet Earth, there’s something about deep space that makes snoring subside.[18] Some nights, after being jolted awake once too often[19], I’d happily send my beloved into orbit[20]. But I’m pretty sure I’d miss him in the morning.
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