Layla: Resurrection

Our Laundry, Ourselves

The Boy gave me a goodbye kiss and went to work this morning; he always wakes me for that kiss, and I always notice, even if I'm still sound asleep. Today I was more coherent than usual, having fallen asleep around 11:00 last night. So I grabbed his pillows, used them instead of my own, and lay awake in the bliss of a silent apartment (silent except for, of course, the sound of two kitties playing) for about thirty minutes, before myself arising and entering the land of the living.

I then wandered into uncharted territory. I've been in the basement of The Boy's complex before - many times, in fact - but never without him by my side. I have a thing about basements, you see. They scare me, when alone. But this morning I needed to throw in some laundry, so I made my way down the two flights of stairs and faced my silly-little-girl fears. A dark basement filled with dark corridors - myself blindly fumbling with my fingers to flick on the light switches, wandering through the maze of storage units, and finding the small laundry room, also unlit.

It was too quiet down there. And the washer wouldn't start, so I had to spend more time than I was comfortable with. I could feel the panic setting in - the hyperventilation about to begin - and then a beep from my cell phone (yes, always cautious, I take it with me, even to the basement - one can never know for sure what dangers may lurk) notifies me that I'm now roaming. I fuck with the washer a bit longer and finally it starts up.

As I'm leaving the laundry room, I turn off the lightswitch again. I run through the corridor, past the storage compartments, and open another door, switching off another lightswitch behind me before bolting up the stairs as fast as I can as if there's someone chasing me. On the second floor, I arrive breathlessly at the apartment door, open it, shut and lock it behind me, and collapse on the floor. The kitties look at me like I'm nuts. I laugh out loud and think to myself, "When did I become such a pussy?"

And it's a valid question. Have I become so accustomed to the security of a man beside me everywhere I go that I am unable to enter a basement alone, in a secured-entry building, nonetheless? Or is it something else, something that's always been there that has absolutely nothing to do with The Boy not being by my side? Either way - what does this fear say about me? If I figure it out, I'll let you know...

Until then, it's back to the basement to transfer my clean clothes to the dryer...eek! Maybe I'm just afraid of ending up in the land of lost socks...

posted by Layla/Jane (whichever you prefer) @ 4/19/2006 09:19:00 AM