The Vessel That Bears

For every momentous occasion spent far from the familiarity of my home, my mind drifts to the years of cherished memories that have eclipsed fleeting instances of distress. Amidst the multitude of keepsakes that people hold onto, I find myself particularly attached to places. They leave an indelible mark on my heart and remain etched in memory forever.

 

We all yearn to be seen for who we truly are, to have our voices heard, and to feel the warmth of human touch. However, in a world that can be harsh and unforgiving, when we allow ourselves to let our guard down, there is one place we can turn to and truly be ourselves: the bed.

 

The bed serves as a refuge, providing a sanctuary where we shed our protective layers and expose ourselves, both physically and emotionally, to another person. Within this space, we relinquish our anxieties and apprehensions, permitting ourselves to exist without pretense.

 

I write this from my safe haven, aware of its serene repose drawing an irresistible sense of dependence. Even on the most trying days, the bed sees you, enveloping you in a protective embrace. It is within the bed's sanctum that we divulge our deepest secrets and form the deepest bonds, articulate our aspirations and anxieties, and reveal our true selves, liberated from the veneer of public personas. It's where we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, knowing that we may be hurt, but also hoping that we could be loved.

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I often find myself torn between the temptation to indulge in a few more moments of restful slumber and the urgency to tackle the demands of my day ahead. During these moments, I often wonder if the dilemma would have been easier to navigate had I been transported back to my childhood bedroom, where memories of being tucked into bed with the warm embrace of my mother and the reassuring presence of my father checking in on my peaceful sleep were commonplace.

 

Perhaps the nostalgic memories of my childhood bed, where my friends and I huddled together in playful arguments over blankets and indulged in midday snacks while watching movies and sharing laughter, would motivate me to begin my day earlier. It seems that the bed served as a vessel that fostered a sense of belonging to one another, a place where we escaped from our daily lives. The bed-turned-dinner table, where we fought for the last slice, was an experience that transcended the mundane realities of our present-day lives. Perhaps, if we were to revisit the comfort and familiarity of the dreams we once cherished in our childhood beds, we could recapture the connectedness that has eluded us in our adult lives.

 

Memories flood my mind as I reflect in bed. Late-night calls, conversations with loved ones, and past love have all shaped me and left their imprint on this very spot. The bed holds onto these memories, with a trigger that can instantly comfort me or transport me back to a different time. The bed may be a vessel that bears vulnerability, but it's also a place where we can find strength and resilience. It's where we can learn to trust, to open ourselves up to others, and to find the courage to be our truest selves.

 

 

As we drift off to sleep tonight, know that tomorrow is a new day, filled with both vulnerability and strength. But for now, in this moment, I'm grateful for the comfort I’ve found in this newfound home, away from my home, in a bed that acts as a vessel that bears, and the comfort it brings. You should be too.

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