Good Company

i developed a deep fondness and quite frankly, addiction to napping in high school. the habit has clung to me as i have nurtured it over the years and still today remains a pattern of living i can't seem to shake. trenton, on the other hand, rarely naps. he sits next to me and studies or watches surf videos as i doze off and surrender to the sleepiness that comes like clockwork around two or three or four or five in the afternoon. sometimes later, sometimes earlier. but as the clock strikes ten, the tables begin to turn. his eyes get heavy and glaze over. he slows down. he works his way to the couch as i continue tap tap tapping away at my laptop. soon i hear the heavy breaths and occasional readjustments that come with sleep, and then he's gone. this difference in lifestyles is one of many trent and i have begin to recognize as we've prepared for our wedding in three months. trenton doesn't butter his french toast. he thinks blanket capes are odd and teases relentlessly when i ask him to blow on my face. i don't get it. my mom always blows on my face when i'm hot. he mixes all his food together and puts ranch dressing on everything. i hate ranch dressing. he can't last three minutes into a movie before losing consciousness. i could go on. but i'm learning to love these things. i'm starting to love these heavy breaths that, even as i'm typing this, keep me company late into the night.