I Miss Those

It's been a while since I had a night like that.  The funny part is, as with all late-night (or should I say early-morning) occurrences of such a sort, it wasn't planned.  I mean, to a point, it was.  But not nearly as planned as something ultimately robs me of quite a few hours of sleep should have been.  Not that I'm objecting.  Really.  I have nothing to object to.

There's something about curling up in bed to go to sleep when everyone else is getting up to start their day.  It makes you feel slightly mischievous and, because you're generally exhausted by the time this happens, it gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling before falling asleep.  So maybe I only got four hours of sleep last night.  That's okay.  I've done worse and for worse reasons.

To a point, I think I needed the night to go like that.  There's something magical about those wee hours of the morning when nobody else is awake that gives you a wonderful sense of perspective.  Everything around you is silent and calm and suddenly all of the petty problems seem to stop mattering and you finally start believing something you forgot--that everything is going to be alright.

I don't really remember the last time I was up that late.  Nor did I realize that I was in fact capable of carrying on a conversation over the phone for four or five hours (thank goodness for unlimited night and weekend minutes).  Something about the dead of night helps me get over the stupid inhibitions and the irrelevant details and the foolishness and mundanity of it all and lets me just be, just talk, just make sense of things.

That was a wonderful way to start a Valentine's Day, so thank you.  As much as I hate the holiday, I can't help but appreciate what it symbolizes, which is something I felt very strongly before I fell asleep this morning. I love you.  Thank you so much for nights like that.