The Fine Art of Spooning

Before I begin writing this post, let me explain that this topic has nothing to do with the sexual position of spooning.  This post, my friends, is about the sleeping position of spooning.  For reference?  This is my definition of spooning while sleeping - His body is curled around mine in the same position, both on our sides, his arm around me, allowing us to be touching as much of each other as possible; our bodies resemble two nested spoons snug in a drawer.  And with that, I’ll begin …

I use to say I was not cuddly while sleeping.  When married, I slept on my side, he on his and we rarely touched.  After the divorce, along came Dick and things changed.  I sought him out during sleep, if I didn’t feel him in some way, I moved until I did.  We spooned a lot.  Whether I was the spooner or spoonee, it didn’t matter.  Normally, in some fashion we were touching while sleeping.  I liked that.  Now that I spend my nights alone, I admit wholeheartedly that I miss the simple act of touching someone while sleeping.  I remember thinking once, that it was Dick that changed my mind about the being a cuddly sleeping person, but I’m going to revise that thought now.  I believe it was the relationship that changed my mind.  Because for some time, we had a good relationship.  We had everything two people could ask for – trust, friendship, chemistry and the list goes on.  I can say quite honestly, I did not have all of those things with my ex-husband.  Yet I had them with Dick, and I believe those things and others combined, turned me into the spooner or spoonee or cuddly sleeper I became.  Irishman and I would cuddle before sleeping and upon waking, but I know I didn’t seek him out in my sleep.  *Snort* I barely sleep when I’m there anyway.  I digress yet again.  I think what I’m trying to say?  Some nights, I head to bed alone and … miss having someone that wants to sleep next to me, someone that snuggles up with me, I miss seeking someone out in my sleep.  I can say that I simply miss having a relationship in which I seek the person out in my sleep.  I think … in my own weird QTMama way, it means something to me that I have turned into the seeker sleeper.

And then Saturday night happened.  Unexpectedly my parents took Emilee for the night, as I had been invited to meet up with some girls from high school.  This is so way beyond anything I do on a normal basis, but I figured it couldn’t hurt and it gave me a chance to get some of my social awkwardness around other women some practice.  Hmm … I should give some background on this.  Approximately a month before meeting Dick, I went out on a date with a boy.  From this point on, he’ll shall be called Main Dish, for reasons only known to ShaNaNa and I.  Main Dish is a divorced man, whose wife cheated on him and left him for this other man.  He was hurt deeply by this but still has hopes of finding “the one”.  *Sigh*  Don’t we all?  Main Dish is a good boy, my age, attractive, confident even after going through his divorce, and he plays poker.    On that one and only date, he showed up with a single daisy for me, and I must admit, I was charmed.  We had our date, had a very good time together and … things never went downhill, they just didn’t happen at all.  Anyway, Main Dish and I remained in contact … on a friendly basis, through poker mostly.  He was, in fact, incredibly supportive when Dick left, and I’ve felt that we have become very good friends over the last few months.  He knows of Irishman, I know of people he was dating, etc.  So, on Saturday night, he texts and asks what I’m up to.  I tell him that I’m having some drinks with some old friends, and that my evening is almost done as these girls need to get going shortly.  We decide to meet up to have a late dinner and drinks, and we have, as per the norm, a great time.  He asked to borrow something of mine for a party his parents were having, I said sure, follow me home and you can grab it.  Upon reaching my house, we have a beer and are talking and laughing about something and … before I knew what was happening, he grabbed ME instead. We shared a pretty darn good kiss, as a matter of fact.  Enough of a good kiss that I wanted to kiss him again!  So I did.  In the end, he ended up spending the night with me – SLEEPING.  There was no sex to be had, well, there could of been but I wasn’t ready for that, and was honest about that with him.  He laughed and said “We have had one date, I don’t think you’re that kind of girl!” and I had to grin.  After knowing him for almost two years, yeah, we did have one date.  So we slept.  And he spooned.  Oh my God, the man can spoon.  He out-spooned Dick by a MILE and the thing is?  I don’t believe there was one moment of the 7 hours we slept that we weren’t touching or spooning or cuddling in some way.  In fit in the nook, I fit in the spoon.  You know what?  I just fit.  And damn, after the humiliation I had with Dick last weekend, it was like a balm to my soul.  It felt GOOD.  It felt damn good.  Here was a man that was there simply because he wanted to be.  Not for sex, not for any other reason but because he wanted to be there.

Even if things don’t work out between he and I, (and for those interested, yes I’m seeing him again this weekend and spooning is planned – seems as if he was just as taken by it as I was!), I will forever be grateful for the balm he applied to my heart.  It did me some good.

[Photo courtesy: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/books/secretsleep.html%5D