My darling sleep, how I have missed you. It’s been years since we’ve been acquainted and there are moments when the mere thought of your relaxing embrace makes me yearn for your return. Oh, sleep, precious sleep, where have you gone? Why have you deserted me in my hours of need?
Remember the joy of our seemingly timeless youth — late nights and lazy mornings, zoned out in the peace and grace of blissful hibernation. There was no need to arise. There were no demands to be met and no purpose to ruin the beauty of our beloved bedtime. Our lover’s embrace lasted hours at a time and Dreamland had a permanent “Do Not Disturb” sign attached to it.
Remember when we would steal away for an afternoon delight — a nap so powerful it could charge a power grid for a small city? Remember when we traveled to new places — comfortably ensconced in a new bed, excited by the journey and luxuriating in our shared slumber?
Sleep, I suppose I took your gifts for granted; failing to appreciate how you improved my life and made me a better, more patient, more relaxed man. Sleep, I was my best self with you — quiet, reflective, peaceful. Accept my apologies, my dear sleep, and please return to me, post-haste!
Sleep, I feel abandoned when a 2-year-old crawls in our bed in the middle of the night, firmly planting a foot in my ribs, back or groin. Sleep, I wonder why you left me when a 4-year-old enters our room on a Saturday morning demanding juice and cartoons just as the sun begins to rise. Sleep, I miss you like crazy when a 4-year-old loudly tells us that he has wet the bed when the moon is at its’ highest point.
Sleep, my life is better with you in it. Please come back to me!
Ah, Sleep. My regrets are many. I strayed from our compact and stayed up too late, got up too early. I pushed you into the tired arms of another, who was only too pleased to discover how you can regenerate the spirit and refresh the mind. You are truly to be cherished!
I will desire you always, Sleep. And trust in knowing that this man realizes the folly of his youth and only desires to bring you back to my life. Someday, Sleep, we will be reunited. My heart — and body — know it.