propinquity

It’s been ‘high pain days’ for me lately. I haven’t managed to shake off the autoimmune flare since the madness ended. I’ve been needing painkillers and topical anaesthetic to help me eat. Ah, but the foodie Bunny is determined to eat! Needless to say, I’ve not bee eating as much as I usually do. It is tiring when one has to cringe and cry into one’s meals. I cooked up the little eggplant with the rest of the tinned tomato. There was one potato left and I added some cheese to the microwaved quickie meal.

No matter how bad the days are, though, Lucy keeps me centred and her proximity sends out synergetic vibrations that steer me away from the doldrums. I have always found it extremely difficult to sleep well when there is someone else in bed with me. Regardless of who the person was, and in whatever context. Lover. Friend. Sister.  School camps were always excruciating, they triggered so much sensory stress that the autoimmune would quickly kick in and add physical pain to the terrible mix, and I cannot remember any such occasion with fondness at all. To this day, I still cringe at the memories of two to four bodies squashing into one bed, ulcers throbbing, head bursting and still having to pretend to share giggles and gossip with the girls. Sharing a bedroom during holiday travels is bad enough, and I remember numerous trips I made with friends and siblings, which I enjoyed when we were outside, but once in the bedrooms, the sensory assault would begin.

Why is it I love being with Lucy, and have no problems sharing my bed with her, then? I am not sure exactly. Perhaps it is because she does not demand of me to ‘perform,’ nor does she encroach into my personal space? She does not bark and make the usual doggy noises either. I love even the smell of her warm velvety body. Perhaps it is also because she relates with me via the senses. There is no need for verbal diarrhoea, which is especially painful when I have a mouth full of ulcers. She reads my body language, and I try to read hers. Perhaps it is because she is (almost) always dignified and polite? Well, sometimes, she can be goofy and make me laugh too. One thing that never fails to elicit giggles is the way she likes to scrunch up my quilt into a huge mound, and then place her head on it. I straighten it out, only to have her repeat the entire process again. I think if a human were to attempt this on my bed, I’d have a meltdown. Maybe she is just prettier than everyone else? Whatever the reason, Lucy is special. Indeed.

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