Today is my birthday. 24th.
I am lying on the bed as I am typing these down. The bed isn't mine, neither the pillows. But the blanket is mine and I have had it since 2001. Other than that, everything else belongs to the man currently lying on his front by my side.
The man just chuckled from something hilarious (I suppose) he read from a football's website. He was having trouble with his phone so he had to use the laptop for football updates. He has been at it for the past half an hour.
I am in this man's room. I have been in this man's room for the past week. I have slept in his bed and he has slept in mine.
To be honest, I still have hard time waking up trying to make sense on what's going on why is there a man in my bed why am I in someone else's bed. And it snaps out when I am able to tell myself,
"Woman, you're married."
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