Time

The lights are out and his head is draped over my calve. His legs make rustling noises as they brush against the blanket in movement. His head rocks a bit, back and forth, twitching in his sleep.

Once, not long ago, this made me uncomfortable. Made me feel like crying. I would put my hand out to still his paws because it reminded me too much of my own motion that I couldn't control, though in my case, very much awake.

Now, I don't mind it as much. I don't mind it because I've been doing so much better for three months that the twitching, the shaking, the tremors, only come once or twice a month. They only stay for an hour tops, unlike the days upon days. The unexpected mornings, afternoons. Hours upon hours.

If I saw my new neurologist I'd give her a hug and tell her she has changed my life, just like Dr. Catherine who still works to get my system back on track (and knows how much I value her healing), and has stuck with me before I went on the migraine medicine.

But for now, I can sit here in the dark and smile as Orion dreams of running in his sleep. I can smile at his little rustling legs and realize how nice it is to notice this doesn't bother me any more.