A Snippet of my Thoughts and Feelings

Oh Beloved Blanket

My blanket. An insignificant part of my room, almost non-existent. It witnesses everything.

It sees me texting my friend every night, with a Cheshire Cat grin. It protects my feet against the evil, icy coldness of the air conditioning. It hears all my questions. And tries to answer, but its reassuring words go unheard. Like a person screaming underwater. It sees me cry and absorbs all my tears. All the while, keeping me warm. It comforts me by saying, don't worry, I'm always here.

Once I'm asleep, it answers all of my questions.

Am I annoying?
No, you aren't. My love, you will never be annoying.

Do my friends feel pressured to stay by my side?
No, they don't. They are here, spending their time on you because you are valuable enough for that. Not because they feel forced to. Please don't think that I beg of you.

Am I not lovable?
You are, there's no question about that. Stop looking for love when it's right in front of you. I love you, is that not enough?

As my alarm rings in the morning, it pulls me back into bed. Saying, don't go, stay, let me keep you warm. It sees my reluctance and pities me, like the mother I never had. Its gentle hands push me out of bed and help me get the day started. All the while, I'm slipping into a different, more likable personality. Brushing my hair. Tucking it all into a ponytail. Applying my pomegranate scented deodorant. Spritzing a tad bit but of the wondrous jasmine-vanilla scented perfume. It tries to compliment me. Saying I look gorgeous today. Or that I smell good, and that no one will judge me. It yearns to have a mouth to tell me. It always ends up disappointed when it can't speak its thoughts. And disappointed that I don't say goodbye before leaving. Nonetheless, it still waits a lengthy 8 hours for me.

It gets excited when I come into the room in a hurry when I forgot something. Then disappointed once again when I don't spare a glance. All it asks is that I acknowledge its presence. Thank it for everything it's done for me.

Welcome home! it says at 3:50 pm. It watches me shrug off the stress from school. Tossing my backpack to the side. Untying the jacket around my waist. Taking my hair out of the tight ponytail. Ruffing my hands through my luxurious hair. Changing into my pajamas. And then doing homework. It deeply endures my frustration with Algebra. It celebrates with me when a portion of my homework has been completed for the day. It gently scolds me for sneaking a text to my friends now and then.

Happily, I stay in my room most of the day. So it can relish in my beauty. Then it's discouraged when my dad forces me to come out for dinner. But it knows that after dinner, it has me all to itself. So it welcomes me once I come. Breathing in my scent and pulling me into a comforting hug, that a mother would, as I fall asleep, knowing that I'm forever safe in its arms.