A Letter To My Bed

Dear Bed,

Look at you, sitting there, big and solid and comfy and looking all celery green like you do. You’re killing me, you know that? You know I have three more pages to edit, but there you are, flaunting those cool, cool sheets and those piles of linen-covered pillows. Damn you!

No, come back! I take it back. I love you so much, I can’t even begin. You are my favorite part of every day. Climbing up onto you at night, with my book in my hand and my hair finally off my neck in a little bun pod. “Aaaah, my bed,” I always say to you. I love how your sheets are always smooth (now that we’ve broken up with the flannel sheets – I hated those guys), how you’re piled high with pillows... I love that your legs don’t stick out too far and I never stub my toes (knock). I love that when I feel lonesome, I can lean my back up against a couple of those pretty pillows and pretend that they’re a boyfriend. And those pillows never kick or snore or cheat on you or tell you that you are overreacting. Man, I love those pillows.

I know we've gone through some hard times lately, with the dog jumping on you and getting you all hairy and whatnot, but you know that deep down she just doesn’t like it up on you, Bed. I think you intimidate her. Don't worry, baby. You know you come first with me.

Thank you, Bed, for letting me rest, for always being there for me. For letting me cry on you, flail around on you, lay my clothes out on you. You’re the best bed I’ve ever had. I love you.

xoxo,
me