Pillow Talk

the best conversations that i have take place in bed.

conversations in the car with your feet propped up and cold drinks in the cup-holders are a close second, but conversations in bed will always be my number one.

lying side by side with the best friend, lights off, gossiping late into the night until we both fall asleep without realizing it

laying my head on the platonic-male-bestfriend’s chest on a hot afternoon, our selves forming a sleepy comfortable T-shape, with me mumbling and grumbling about guy problems over Diet Coke and pizza while he listens and occasionally gives advice

during sleepovers with like 5 people on the bed, and 5 more on the floor, gossiping and jostling and snatching blankets and just a lot of laughing..

and finally, on cool nights with the air conditioning on, with the illumination of the city lights from far below and out the window being our only light .. me and him, with the sheets resting carelessly on our chests and our legs tangled. the room smelling of fresh soap from the bathroom, our cheeks still warm, and our fingers touching. facing each other, pulling close, kissing lightly, and just talking.

or whispering. finding out things about the other person that you never knew. things from their childhood, their ex-girlfriends, their high school life, their university years, their parents, their siblings, the workplace, basically their life before you walked into it. or what happened during the hours of the day that you didnt spend with them. just knowing all these things, it’s like looking at their yearbook pictures or watching them in their sleep. i love it.

for an odd reason, i hate talking across tables. it’s horrible. whenever we have dinners i usually want them to end quick so we can go back and lie in bed and talk. that’s when it all clicks together and the world around shrinks to accomodate only the both of us. discourse becomes so much sweeter when there’s no space in between. tete-a-tetes under dark blue duvets. we’re so close that i can taste his words on my lips, and he can feel that strange but comforting pulse that i have at my abdominal region. we breathe at the same pace and our hands find all the right places. it’s like being one.

sometimes conversations in bed just dont seem right with some people. when you lie in their arms it feels so disgustingly wrong. like you’re acting, and it just so turns out you’re acting opposite a person that you really cant stand in real life. but it happens anyway. and you have to put up with that gross, creepy crawly sensation in your lower back. such ugly, forced conversations with fake giggles, when i really just want to call a cab and leave. and then there are the people who equate bed with sex … like can you slow down? i cant even have a decent conversation with you and you already want to screw me?

talking in bed is the best. ever. it’s so intimate that everytime it happens, i feel so compelled to bare my soul. it’s such a vulnerable setting, and it just feels right to say whatever is at the tip of my mind. i once told my boyfriend, “i kissed him, you know. more than once. i’m sorry.” when we were lying in bed one night. he drew away from me, looked at me for the longest time, and finally asked if i had loved him, that other person. i said no. it was and still is the truth. he then kissed me on my forehead and said that was all that mattered, and that he forgave me. then we fell asleep. i have this feeling that if i had told him that while we were making dinner or reading a book, he would have completely blew up at me.

you know what, i think i’m going to make this a prerequisite for all my future boyfriends. No. 892 : Thou Shalt Be Nice To Talk To In Bed.

mmm. i would love to have pillow talk right about now. it’s such a cold and lonely night.

19 comments March 7th, 2006