Updated: Dec 19, 2017
NOVEMBER 04, 2014
I don’t like the dark. It scares me. I had terrible, vivid, creepy nightmares as a child. The screams jolted me awake. I’d immediately make a run for my sister’s bedroom, dive into her bed and snuggle right up against her. As soon as my back touched hers, I felt safe.
I hate sleeping alone. The longest my husband and I have been apart is one week. Now, he’s in the hospital for the month of October. I leave the hospital daily at 9pm. It is cold and dark. Our house sits in the middle of a 10 acre field. There are no streetlights, just the light of the moon if I’m lucky. I update my parents nightly on the drive home from the hospital. My mother asks on Chris’s first day, “Aren’t you going to get scared sleeping alone in the dark?” My fear is a big joke in our family. But it’s not funny. Isn’t it enough that I have to face my husband’s pending mortality? Now I have to slay my own demons too.
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