I Love You

I grabbed the sheets and bolted upright.

Outside, the night loomed close and heavy. There were no cars passing along the highway out in the distance. No other souls beside that sudden, longing wail in the darkness.

When I was little, I thought the coyotes were crying children.

Lost out in the dark.

I blinked the sleep from my eyes and looked at the clock.

2 a.m. 

Something had woken me, something cold. A black dream. I lay there for a moment, trying to breath. Trying to pray. Outside the door, I heard a snore from my father, sleeping on the chair in the living room. 

But no. I could handle this. 

After a moment of tortured silence, that long coyote called sounded again. It's haunting. Horribly silver and thin.

I jumped up and padded into the living room, tapping my father's arm. 

He startled awake and looked at me in the darkness. I swallowed hard. It was embarrassing. 

"I had a dream, and I can't sleep." I whispered.

He laughed quietly and patted the arm of the chair. So I curled down next to him, like I had when I was a little girl, and he said something funny, and I breathed out a laugh. And then he prayed for comfort.

And for sleep.

I went back to my own bed and curled up into the blankets.

And the voice of my father followed me, warm and golden.

I love you.

When did I think I had grown too old for love?

Because I was wrong.

I was wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

The stars glittered gently outside my window, and the breeze came in with the smell of grass and daffodils springing up strong. 

And the voice of my Father came in too.

I love you.

And I slept until morning.

♥

xoxo

p.s. i was thinking of doing a movie review next week, since i saw cinderella today. it was so lovely!

love you all.