Antukin

Desperately battling sleep as I lie on this synthetic leather couch. The huge fan infront of me ain't helping at all, I'm fighting a losing battle. Tucked under your neck, I feel solitude; safe from all the harm the world could throw at me. With you I feel happiness, truly, this is where I belong; in an ideal world this is what's meant to happen. But we all know that this world is far from being ideal...

I can't help but try to fight sleep. The first time I opened my eyes you were walking infront of me doing something. Next you were beside me, placing your shoulder infront of my face, you were uttering words to me, "try and get more sleep" or was it "sleep well?" I can no longer remember. It was comforting and soothing at the same time to smell the scent of your skin and feel it brush with mine.

It's funny how the couch feel like home, how comfortable I am eventhough it's way too short for me. I love the way it hugs me, the way it lulls me to sleep. Or maybe, just maybe, I just love the "thought" of it, the "idea" of me sleeping on it, maybe the leather on my skin is but an illusion, a mere representation of deeper things I felt that night. Or maybe I'm wrong...

Whatever that is, it was a night to remember, a night I felt "home" away from home...