Neediness

    I could hear him breathing as I lay there clutching my soft brown teddy. I had a choice; I could forego my neediness and let my beloved teddy fall to the floor in efforts to proclaim independence: I am not the twenty six year old who needs a stuffed animal to sleep with, I am quite well on my own, thank you very much: or I could cradle my desire to be held while sleeping and simply let teddy fulfill that for me. Because the sleeping man next to me couldn’t do this...it wasn’t in his nature to cuddle, even after lovemaking. My friends said he had Mommy issues. I blamed his ex. 

  In the mornings he would wake and jump out of bed immediately. It startled me every time, I never understood his urgency to flee from our sleeping sanctuary so quickly—like his whole body was on fire and the hardwood floor was a soothing pool of water to dive into. I longed for him to kiss my neck just once before he raced for the door. If he did give me a peck, it was my cheek and it was only a signal of his departure; a polite gesture to excuse his abruptness. He never had time for coffee or tea or pillow talk. He had things to do and soon enough he would become so busy that he would forget about me entirely. I projected this fear onto him. I think that’s why he kept his distance. He knew I wanted far more than he was willing to give. 

  So as I lay there listening to him breathe I had a choice. I could cuddle up to him for a few moments before he would stir and roll away from me...but it would be a few cherished moments that would help me sleep better...or I could seep my face into my darling teddy, let go of my insecurities and confidently hold his little fluffy head and pretend that I had someone real who loved me. I would wish for this while lying there, so close to someone who possessed only lukewarm feelings for me. I would wish for kisses and cuddles and dream of a life where someone wanted to hold me close to them always.