His Heartbeat

     We lie on my bed, my head on his chest, in silence. Somehow it's not a weird silence, it is nice, and we aren't silent because we have nothing to say, or because either of us feel awkward, but because we are comfortable. The beating of his heart sounds like a lullaby to me, and soon I find myself slipping into unconciousness. I can feel his eyes staring down at me, the smiles that faintly flickers in his eyes, and I know he knows that soon I'll be sleeping, though it is the middle of the day, though I wasn't tired before, and though I can hardly even sleep when there is no light, let alone bright and abundant light. But lying there with him makes me feel comfortable, safe, and I find it easy to count out the beat of his heart, not using numbers exactly, just pacing it, guessing his thoughts based on how steady the beating is, and then I'm asleep, lost in a world that, for once, is not corrupted by a large pile of little things that seem to ruin my day and prevent me from sleep, not tainted by the selfish acts of others, not stained by the tears that are not shed. I exist, he exists, and I build a world around that in my head, I let that image linger, a small house, well kept yard, colorful garden, paved walkway up to stone steps and a brick building, old fashioned-looking and beautiful, and the familiar laughter of my father echoes into the scene and the dream takes me through the house; the house decorated in black and white, with flowers and pretty pictures. The smell of a fire, of a barbaque, and the sight of my family with his brings a secret smile to my face, I see him, cooking with our fathers, I see my mother and his chit-chatting about how we grew up too quickly. And the image fades away, he is speaking, what is he saying? The vibrations of his chest as he speaks brings me into conciousness and the form of my father plays at the edge of my vision, smile on his face, eyes mocking and playful. I can't not smile so I let them talk, my dad leaves, and then he asks me why I am smiling. Though I don't tell him exactly what I am smiling about I just kiss him lightly and he seems to understand. I look forward to moments like that, both the dream and the reality, because all those things that taint my world with sadness and negativity disappear when he is around. Why? I wish I knew. But I do know there is always one thing that can make me feel safe and secure and calm, his heartbeat.