Bruised Pride

My pillow was calling my name. I had been out all night drinking and dancing at Coyote Bar and finally made it home at 5:30am.

My bed was there, just how I had left it. The pillow fluffed up, the blankets and sheets in disarray, just how i like them. Tonight there was nothing on my bed, no laptop or books or papers. The way was cleared for me to leap and be consumed by everything bed-like. I knew my bed would not fail me, sleep would come quickly and I would dream of feathers and silk and my favorite bathrobe, and everything soft.

I kept the light off so as not to wake my roommate. I tip-toed to the edge of where I knew my bed was waiting for me and I leaped with a child-like grin, my arms held wide, ready to embrace sleep.

And I missed.

"What the fuck?" said my roommate.

"Uhhgghhhowww ehhhh," I replied.

I felt the bruises begin to bloom on my knee and my pride. It will be a while before I trust you again, bed.