I deserve a little change, a little variety in pace sometimes. She'll be in bed already when I get home late. My soul will be in a pseudo whimsical, pseudo daring, pseudo defiant mood. My entire being will decide that I want, no need to lay down on the cold linoleum floor.
But what will that look like to her? She'll say I'm being silly, stupid. She'll ask me why I am doing this. She will make it about her, see it as a personal rejection, as an insult. She will see it as, "I would rather sleep on the floor then next to her."
She will think I'm crazy. She will scream a hushed, hysterical whisper about how I'm ruining her inner peace. She will cast a curse on me (oh yeah by the way, she's Wiccan). She will cause me to get audited. (She also works for the IRS). She will eat me alive. (I'm actually married to a dinosaur).
No. If I want to follow the deepest yearnings of my soul tonight, I'm going to have to make my floor sleeping seem as "accidental" as possible. I roll off of the floor as naturally as possible, pretending not to wake up. There will be a short pause of glorious proud silence. I will believe myself successful, but it will not last.
"Sweetie?"
Oh crap, I'll think.
"Sweetie? Are you okay?"
Terrified, I'll jump back into bed, pretending to still be asleep the whole time. She'll laugh a confused laugh to herself shortly, and then cuddle up next to me. I'll shudder at the sensation of her skin, because dinosaurs are cold-blooded. She'll rub my back with her tiny, T-Rex arms, and I'll eventually fall asleep in spite of her terrifyingly close, dagger-sharp teeth.
In the morning, she'll have a funny story to tell me about what I did "in my sleep" last night. I alone will know the truth.
Now I know.
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