I can’t figure out what woke me up, but the panic is there as soon as my eyes open. The darkness around me presses the air out of my lungs. An ice cold shiver comes over me as I see it. Lying in my bed, just beneath my knees. The fear makes my vision blurry. My hands shiver as I sit up and reach down. Everything is beyond logic, my brain doesn’t even wonder why there’s a human head in my bed.
I place my hand on his cheek, preparing myself to touch the cold, soft skin. But it’s not. It’s not cold nor smooth. My head spin in confusion as I realise it’s my quilt lying there wrapped up in a ball. I lie back down, but even though my recent realisation I don’t feel calmed down the slightest. I’m fully awake now and the fear is intensified.
The one thing that can keep me calm, my only safety and refuge is miles away. Feels like another world. The one night the internet provider decided to do maintenance and shut it all down. When I’m not with him, and I can’t use the Internet to skype him. The fear start turning into desperation. When I finally manage to call him up on my phone’s 3G it hangs up after just a few seconds. My desperation takes form in uncontrollable tears. From the corner of my eye I see something move in the darkness. Gracefully, close to the floor, but only for a split second. I scan the room but the dark makes it hard to see anything.
Just then I hear the Skype call, like a saving from my contemporary, personal hell. The loneliness disappears, but the fear clings onto my flesh. My skin is so cold and I want nothing more than be close to him. Let him melt all the ice away, along with the fear. The minutes pass by and I eventually calm down.
I can’t remember falling asleep.
When I wake up in the morning I realise that he’s already awake, and I ask why he’s up so early. And he responds that he never went to sleep, so he could watch over me and make sure he’d be there if I was woke up again.