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For the first time in too long I did not have nightmares.
I did not wake up crying, shaking, or screaming, and it was amazing. A weight was lifted off my shoulders, and for the first time I felt like I had slept. Like, actually slept. I didn't have to steady my breathing, I didn't have to wipe my tears, and for the first time, I felt happy as I woke up.
This made me rack my brain about anything and everything that had been different- what position I slept in, the temperature of the room, how dark the room was. But the only real difference was that I wasn't alone.
For the first time in a long time, I had someone there, almost like she was warding off the demons for me, like she was protecting me. I actually slept. I actually did not **** awake in mid-scream. My eyes fluttered open and I breathed in, breathed in relief, confusion, but mostly gratitude.
What does this mean? Was it really having another person there that made this phenomenon, and it is a ******* phenomenon, happen? Was it purely by chance? Does this mean that I could be cured by simply having someone to share a bed with? And if so, should I become dependent on it?
All of these questions are blazing through my head, and I could nearly cry. I could cry for how much of a relief it was. I rested, you guys. Rested. It blows my mind that people rest every single night; I'm high on rest.
Honestly, I would give anything to sleep well, to sleep like I did last night. I wish I could test the theory, but of course I cannot. As I lie here in bed, growing more and more tired, the memory of waking up with not a trouble in the world is making me grin like an idiot.
What was different? What was different? I need to feel this way again, I just need to. I already miss her like ******* crazy.
To anything that's out there: please let me rest tonight, I'm in love with the feeling. Please let this time not be the last.
I have saved "darling" for you.
Six word story #1
  Jul 2015 Julia Squishy Thomas
Kvothe
You are tea,
serene in your surroundings.

                                                  ­                                                         I am coffee,
                                                         ­                        attention always bounding.

Your colour a milkish pale,
creamy optimism.

                                                      ­                                           I am taken black,
                                                          ­                                           bitter cynicism.

Two sugars,
to match your disposition.

                                                   ­                                                      None for me,
                                                             ­             I'll maintain my grim affliction.


                                               We differ so much,
                                                     it's obscene.
                                                  
                                                   But in the end
                                               we're both caffeine.

— The End —