He Sees You When You're Sleeping

by Emily Antoinette

always harped on about how all feelings are valid and that I need to “feel my shit.” But when that shit is keeping me from celebrating my favorite time of the year with my favorite people, it’s hard not to get annoyed at myself.

She may be terrorized by me, but she’s supposed to at least be enjoying the holiday season, dammit!

Tailoring my environment isn’t going to stop this, but at least it will help me ride it out. Because with as confused as my head is now? The next day or so are going to be a lot of napping, a lot of tears, and a lot of time in bed. After, I can figure out what this means. After, I’ll make some sense out of it. After, I’ll become human again. For now, though, I’ll survive.

“Yeah, so I listened to some of their music, but then I squirreled away to turtles, and turtle penises.” I choke on my water and set it down, sputtering. “Turtle penises?” “Yeah, I’m trying to figure out if mine is based on anything in nature.” He is trying to kill me, or make my pussy explode. “And… is it based on a turtle?” Surely I can talk about this. It’s no big deal. I am dying to have sex with him again, but I can definitely talk about his amazing dick with zero issues. None. You know, except for the wet spot that’s definitely going to be on the chair when I stand up. For a second, I regret that I didn’t wear underwear under my short skirt, but the chair is just going to have to take one for the team. I’m fighting dirty today. “Nope. Though their dicks are wild. The end opens and closes like a flower.” “Jesus.”

Talk of turtle dicks leads to even more wild animal dicks, and though he figures that his knot is probably somewhat based on the animal kingdom, the rest is all him. He makes me laugh when he points out some of the weirdest aspects of Christmas from his perspective—an old man you let break into your house—and the parts he really likes—cookies, presents, and the general feeling of magic—because he gets so animated.

Jesus Helena Christ,