Today’s post is gonna be quick. I can not confidently say how much longer I can keep my eyes open so wanna do this before they happen to close. Gonna just try some free writing again and see where that leads us.
Beds are for the bad days. They are for the long days that seem to elevate the bad and drain one of all function.
Beds are for the days with a full agenda. Morning till night is filled with activity and purpose. They are that last appointment scheduled in.
Beds are for the sick days. When you’re a little worse for wear and the only remedy is a healthy dose of rest.
Beds are for the days relationships end. The fluff of your comforter and the squeeze of your stuffed animal will keep you warm till new arms can be hired.
Beds are for the lazy days. No responsibilities in sight, instead there is a book, lack of pants, and the day long performance of the sun from one end of the sky to the other.
Beds are for the days (and nights) of love making. Where soft moans and loud screams resemble the true aliveness of its inhabitants.
Beds are for the dying days. Providing comfort, as it always has, in the last moments before everything is summed up.
Beds are for the days we feel alone. Because they maybe an object but they experience it all. The tears we cry alone at night, the whispers of love between two people, the scent of us fresh from showers or workouts, and all the crumbs from our nights of TV binging. And no matter the fact we leave them every morning after letting them revive us, each night when we return asking for another fix they welcome us.
Beds are for all the days.