3 a.m. has found me again.

I wake, startled, for the fourth time this week, the nightmare played out behind my eyes already fading from my mind. I can still feel its presence, like fog it lingers.

I have fist fulls of sheets as I lie on my back, my eyes closed. I focus all of my energy on catching my breath. I am an anchor in my dark sea of thoughts, unable to move.
Sinking, sinking...  I am drowning.

Then my husband stirs next to me.

I look at him to my left, his back towards me, fixated by his messy brown hair. I feel my heartbeat slow, my mind calm. Suddenly he is all I can see.

After a moment of hesitation, I turn towards him and reach around and touch my cold hand against his stomach. In his sleepy state, he grabs my hand and moves closer to me.

I feel the fog begin to subside, overcome by the light that is sleeping next to me. I can breathe again.