i most often fall asleep with my face inside my husband's neck; in that warm delicious crook where his chin and shoulder meet. the rest of us is often similarly entwined, with assorted variance required by mood temperament and pre-sleep activity; but this fact remains nearly constant. last night, (i had previously drunk coffee and was slightly wired) (and, to be honest, it was actually 7am this morning, when i finally wound down/finished work to an extent that i felt comfortable getting into the bed) his pulse seemed thunderous to me. insistent. i was struck with his intense aliveness, the juiciness and fluidity and solidness and heat of him. and felt in the core of me a huge gratitude and awe for this. but also felt like there was no way i could sleep with that much tireless rhythm right in my ear. i turned. and this is a thing about him that i love - his ability to have entire interaction and conversations with me in his sleep - when i gave him my back he curled right into me and pressed and held and instead of his bold intense heartbeat it was his deep and sweet breath in my ear. and i slept.