A Winter Night in Ohio

After the three words are whispered, I walk slowly up to the guest bedroom. I try not to look back at you, but I find myself doing just that. You move slightly and I bolt up the stairs as fast as my long legs can carry me.

I hate being caught watching you.

You didn't even bother fighting me for this room earlier. I acted happy for that. I'm much taller so I need more room than that small couch gave.

But the room is cold and dark. The door probably hasn't been open in two years. The light bulbs are probably dead, so I don't even bother checking. The moment I open the door, a cold gust of wind blows by. I shiver from the freezing cold and close the door.

I hate sleeping in the cold.

There is no choice. I open the door and jump in, making sure the keep it open to let the cold air leave. I shut it quickly and jump in the colder than ice bed.

It's freezing. The sheets are soft, but practically frozen. The pillows are soft and semi warm.
I keep my jackets on, but slip my shoes off before pulling myself under the covers.

I hate wearing jackets under blankets.

I should be warmer. The blanket is think and warm underneath. It's soft and conferable.

Most people would close their eyes and fall asleep instantly.

But I'm not most people. I stay awake, staring at the door and hoping you will walk in. I don't care if you're declaring or love or just asking for a blanket. I need you here.

I hate sleeping alone.

The king sized beg feels colder than any frozen lake I have fallen into. Even under all the jackets and blankets, I'm freezing because I'm alone.

Damn the cold. Damn it to hell! Damn the loneliness. Damn winter, damn Ohio, damn everything on this cold earth to hell!

I hate blaming things.

I want to yell for you. Scream at you to come join me. I want to get out of this Iceland and crawl on the couch with you. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be this cold.

You may only be downstairs but that's too far. You feel like you're a thousand miles away and that you're never coming back.

Suddenly, I'm much colder. I won't sleep a wink that night. I'll lie away hoping you'll come back from this 'thousand mile trip' and lie in bed with me. I know you won't, but a janitor can have hope.

I hate being without you, Oswald.