harbour

"Sunday mornin’ rain is fallin’
Steal some covers, share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mould that I am in"

Sunday Morning by Maroon 5.

There’s something about the image of two people asleep under the covers that makes this song my favourite from Maroon 5.

The bed is a strange sort of place. It moulds to suit the purpose for which you need it. No, not in that way and No I’m not the perennial bed- hopper *grin* In fact this post is actually nothing to do with anything carnal.

We’ve all I’m sure shared a sleeping space with various people, absolute strangers included, out of necessity. I know I have. The list ranges from random people I meet on diving trips to drunken acquaintances who’ve misplaced their keys. In such circumstances it really is something born out of necessity, to rest weary bones, recharge and nothing more.

But then you get the moments with the people that matter.

To share sleeping space is one thing, to share your bed is another.

For to share your bed is to share your most vulnerable moments, the vessel that allows you to dream, your harbour.

I remember moments spent growing up with Simian in her old double bed in Tampines when we would gossip till we fell asleep, Smeagol jumping into my bed with me when I was so floored by life I couldn’t get out of it. Breakfast in bed with Lost One talking about everything that mattered, yet nothing of importance. The many many nights when my bed seemed too big and the room too unfriendly for my broken heart when I would crawl up to Crease’s room, favourite pillow in tow, and all she would do was flip open the duvet, make room and let me sleep with her.

It is these moments when you realise how intimate sharing a bed with someone is. When you twist to fit the mould the other person is in, or they twist to fit in yours.

It’s saying, when your shelter fails you, let me engulf you in mine.

It’s saying, let’s run away. I’ll make sure you’re ok.

Photo courtesy of hdahlby on Flickr.