Lack of sleep can do strange things to a person. Putting milk in the microwave, sticking dirty laundry in the dishwasher. Healthy structured meals replaced with a myriad of fatty junk food and sugar kicks. Caffeine consumption off the Richter scale. Chattering nonsense and snapping like an untrained dog. It is not a pretty sight.
The darkest hours of the night are a strange alien place, where time stretches like the Pan-America Highway. Then the person beside you begins again. Just like last night and the night before. Quiet at first, like a cat outstretched in front of the hearth. Gaining momentum like a freight train the sound quickly amplifies, tickling the nerves that are already teetering on the verge of suicide.
A gentle tap, then a nudge, a kick conjoined with “you are snoring again”. Grunting an acknowledgement they reposition themselves, with a snort and a snuffle the room goes silent. Thankyou! Thankyou! Spoke to soon. Winding up once more. Pinch their nose, force shut their mouth, shake them fiercely. Separate rooms or the single life: both attractive options.
Late night television it is then. A milky brew and a blanket. At that moment hating the one you love and share a bed with. Shaking back and forth with hands pressed tightly over ears its the only option. That or a pillow over their face. I am not a killer! I am not a killer!