Him: "I love you"
Why can't I say it back?
Talking In His Sleep
He jumped up and said it.
Because physical touch is a love language of mine, sleeping together always made me feel special. This particular night was one of the only times I can recall that he’s sleep while I’m up watching reruns of something—probably Golden Girls.
He normally sleeps facing away so I can rest my hand on his ass throughout the night. He’s warm-bodied and I conduct heat like a campfire so the spooning-through-the-night vibe just isn’t for us.
Rose was telling some St. Olaf story, Blanche was digging through the fridge to find a cheesecake. Dorothy was sitting center screen watching the other two do their thing when Sophia walks through the kitchen door in her bathrobe.
Kevin jumps up and says “I love you.”
His body relaxes and he settles into another slumber, so I thought. I smiled subtly to myself. Those small moments when I feel that we’re making progress give me that warm feeling. I’m not delusional. Of course this was a spontaneous utterance from someone I know talks in his sleep. It’s usually half-sleep jibberish, but talks in his sleep nonetheless.
The back-from-break GG music plays as the scene opens on the lanai. His small snores stopped. The room was noticeably quiet between whatever scene transition the four were going through on TV. I looked down at Kevin. His head still resting on the pillow. I’m expecting him to still be sleep, but he’s staring at me—tenderly.
His eyes migrate slowly up my body. I’m shirtless, halfway under the covers with my free leg out—in usual Black folk sleeping formation. He gazes at my exposed belly as his eyes follow. To my chest and nipples before he massages my chin gently with one finger.
I’m looking down at him. He’s softly gazing at me. Our eyes locked and he says it again. Deeply and with intention, “I love you”.
What Is Love?
That first night, I couldn’t bring myself to say it back.