February 25, 2007:
One sleeps at the center of the bed, face to the ceiling, elbows out like porcupine spines, snoring and thrashing.
The other sleeps at the edge of the bed, face against the wall, curled as small as possible, pinned and immobile.
A metaphor for the relationship?
No. Merely a contrast of habits, one that calls for adaptation rather than confrontation.
All relationships are like this. A clash of contrasting histories, frozen into habits, completely unconscious, completely benign. Perhaps the best we can do for one another is to keep that in mind.