This is the second time I am opening my blog with the disclaimer that this is not going to be as raunchy as it sounds (not a good sign), but the truth is I have always been a disappointment to my husband in bed. Stay with me, it gets better. I can't have anything touching me when I fall asleep or I have nightmares. My husband happens to fall in the category of anything. As far as I know I have always been this way. When I was a little girl, I carefully took all my stuffed animals out of my bed before I could go to sleep. This is a great disappointment to my husband, who finds me both irresistible and untouchable at the same time. Once I am deeply asleep he is welcome to touch me but, of course, I cannot tell him that and he tell can't tell by looking what stage of sleep I am in. I asked a counselor about it once, he told me he doesn't put much stock in the significance of dreams but he thought it was probably significant. Maybe my older brother tried to smother me in my sleep when I was too little to remember. I know there were plenty of times I wanted to smother him.
For whatever reason I am cursed with something like the Midas touch except it only happens when I am falling asleep, someone else has to touch me, and I don't get anything shiny out of it. I guess it's more like the Minus touch. Untouchable makes a great movie title or television series but it's kind of pain in real life, especially the bed part of real life. Snuggle will remain my fabric softener and not my sleeping condition. I'm having a hard time finishing this blog. Guess it doesn't want to be wrapped up either.
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