Counting Sheep

I didn't really want to do anything when I got home. Anything that I could do. I just wanted to sleep. I can never sleep any more. I kept myself awake most of the time. Convincing myself of everything I know isn't true, but because I'm the only person I trust completely with everything, I believe myself.

Because of this nasty habit I'd developed, I could never sleep. Not only that, I was always uncomfortable.

I was like a safe zombie, to a point.

I unlocked the door to the flat I shared with my best friend, hearing the usual small creak of the door as it opened and shut itself behind me.

Craig was my best friend. He was my rock. My everything right now. But because I was the only person who I trust completely, he was the first person I almost completely trusted. I didn't have much of a reason not to trust him other than little things he's said that he'll do. Dramatic, yes. But I convince myself that he lies to me on a regular basis about most things, I just don't say anything and do my best to trust him.

He's been by my side with the whole situation since day 1, doing his best to be the best friend that he is to me and to keep me happy. Hence why he's my rock. No one else, not even my other best friend I'd known longer did anything near what Craig's done before to keep me going. I'm just glad I have him otherwise I'd likely not to be around still.

He wasn't home as I presumed, sometimes he would get back before me. The place was silent. Usually if he was home the TV would be on, the kettle or music. Maybe even 2 at once if he's making a drink.

I slipped my shoes off and kicked them to the side, put my bag down next to them, took my jacket off and hung it up on the coat rack. Slouching in the kitchen, I put the kettle on and prepared my cup of tea.

This was kind of a routine for me. Get home, put shoes, bag and coat in the same places and make a drink. Usually I would watch TV but this time I wasn't feeling TV. I was feeling sleep, even though I know I had no chance of getting any.

I made my drink and prepared Craigs' usual coffee for when he got home and made sure there was water in the kettle for him. He probably wouldn't be far from home now. I picked up my drink and took a small sip. It was hot, but not too hot. Just how I like it.

I went to my room, opened the door. Another creak. This one was much louder and irritating to everyone else. It didn't bother me nor Craig. We'd just gotten used to it over time. I turned my light on and put my cup down on my night stand.

It wasn't dark outside, not just yet. But my curtains were always closed in my room, I never liked to have them open for some reason. I never had. Might be the effort to get up and close them, might be the fact when it does get dark I might see someone watching me outside. Not sure, but either way I haven't opened my curtains through the day without a reason for years.

Climbing into bed, I decided not to bother with a DVD. Whenever I was in bed usually without my laptop I would watch a DVD. Because I never slept, it always helped pass time. Again, I just wanted to sleep, so I didn't bother. A DVD would only distract me.

I undressed down to only my underwear. I would usually sleep in my bra and underwear, never in clothes. I always found it uncomfortable, my clothes just clinging to my body if I get too warm and begin to sweat, how they'd just scrunch up and twist into bundles as you move in your sleep. I never liked it.

I just sat there really. In bed, drinking my cup of tea, trying to count sheep in my head to make me sleepy. I was sleepy as it is, but before it's worked where I would count sheep and it'd put me to sleep. Never tried it sitting up though, I just hope it'd have the same effect. I would lay down too, but I didn't want to waste my cup of tea.

On my 975th sheep, I heard the door open.

976, 977.

Craig took his shoes off, kicking them lazily against the wall out of the way.

978, 979, 980.

His bag hit the leather couch in some weird thud noise.

981.

His jacket followed, the zip and scrunched up material hitting the leather like the bag.

982, 983.

The loud rumbling of the kettle boiling echoed through the flat.

984, 985, 986, 987.

The kettle had boiled, clicking obnoxiously loud.

988, 989, 990, 991, 992, 993, 994.

My bedroom door opened.

I opened my eyes slowly and lazily looked over at the worn out young man stood at my bedroom door. He looked at me and smiled sympathetically. I gave him a weak half smile and closed my eyes again. Keeping them open was becoming a chore.

995, 996, 997.

He moved from my door to my bed, closing my bedroom door behind him, taking my cup of tea from my hands and undressing himself. I particularly want him to take my tea away from me cause I was enjoying it, but I was lacking too much energy to do or say anything for it.

I moved over a little so I was almost touching the wall next to my bed and felt him climb into the single bed with me. His warm skin sending slight chills down my spine. I was frozen, I always was.

Relaxing again from his warm skin touching my cold skin, he slouched his arm behind me and slowly stroked at the skin on my side. I smiled a little at his move. It was nice, relaxing me a lot more to say the least. Making me feel comfortable for once.

After a few moments I rested my head on his shoulder lazily, my eyes still closed. He moved a little and kissed my forehead, causing a little bigger smile on my head. I just sat there and let him stroke my side with his thumb lightly.

We sat there for awhile before he laid down. I followed him and adjusted myself. He laid on his back whilst I rested my head on his shoulder, his arm underneath my head. Instead of stroking my side he began tickling my back very lightly. It was very relaxing to say the least.

Even if he hadn't stroked my side or tickled my back, I'd have still felt better. I'd have been comfortable and somewhat happy. I always was when I was with Craig, not specifically like this.

998, 999, 1,000.