Catching Zs, now if only I could remember the rest of the alphabet

Jack was still laying on his stomach with his face in front of the open window. It was late. I had to be at work in a handful of hours and I had since moved and laid properly in his bed. Even though the blinds were pulled up partially, he still pried them apart to look through them.

"I wish you had come over when you were supposed to at noon."

"Baby, you know I was out of town for the weekend. I tried to get everyone to leave early, but you know them. I'm here now though."

"Yeah, but I had our whole day planned." He sighed, "We were going to read in bed."

I held my breath. It's my absolute favorite thing to do with someone; I don't think there is anything more intimate. I admitted this to him once and he said we could do it, but we have yet to get around to it. It should also be mentioned that Jack doesn't plan things. Our arrangement is I plan and he pays- it seems to work for both of us.

"And now it's late--it's after three--and I don't want to go to sleep because you're here," he finished.

Soundlessly I moved perpendicular on the bed again and wrapped my arm over his lower back. How could I go to sleep when someone says that to me?

It's the best stage of a relationship. It will never get better than this moment: when the smallest gesture takes my breath away. Keeping me up past 3 AM will not be cute six months from now.

I slept at my desk for about 15 minutes the following afternoon before I got up to make my third cup of tea. N laughed when she saw me propped up at my desk with my college-perfected pose of looking like I'm really concentrating on something while I'm actually snoozing.

"This will pass with the first stage," she smiled.

I hope so because I am just So. Fucking. Tired. I came home from work and was asleep before 8 PM that night. My apartment is a dirty mess; I haven't done laundry in at least two weeks. I have literally no food in my apartment; I don't really eat dinner anymore. My Blockbuster movies are stacked up and they're calling me, wondering when they are getting their movies back. I haven't seen my shows, I haven't been writing, and I can't remember the last time I got my mail.

I am just that tired.

I haven't even seen Jack in three days and I won't see him again for another two more, but even now I can barely keep my eyelids open. If I'm not at work, I am sleeping. Jack knows that when he calls, I will be asleep and I'll lie about it.

I want this phase to end for no other reason than I can join the living again.

I'm out of underwear.