Sometimes I watch you sleep.
In the mornings, after the madness has departed and the air is still I stand in the doorway of our room and watch you.
Hand under pillow, in a tangle of arms and legs and sheet you lay, gently breathing. You look so.....calm. Unfettered. Distant.
I like you then the most. I think it's because it's the only time I ever see you be still. Even when you're awake and physically still, your head and mind are always charging away with you. When you're sleeping I see a cessation...a rest from all of that.
Sometimes too, I'll come and lay next to you. You don't wake, but somehow you know that I'm there and curl yourself around me...and I am always amazed at how well the curve of my back fits into the hollow of your belly.
It's then that I know, that I truly know, that I am home.