Am I the only one who has had this thought? Just hear me out... You're lying in bed, quite comfortable. Everything is great, you have the temperature set, your pillows are in the perfect position to support, and you are drifting along in a gentle breeze of sleep, and suddenly you wake up with an insufferable thirst. Is it really worth it? Do I really want to get up from the splendid bliss of comfort that doesn't come very often? No, you think, I'll just wait until the morning. Suddenly, your throat seems to just desiccate by the second, until it's so unbearable that you decide you have to get up, so... you do. You discern you shouldn't have.
As you make your way to the kitchen, half awake, in the dark, staggering along, not quite lost, but still not completely sure of your surroundings either, you take comfort in all the dark silhouettes you do recognize. You see the furniture you spent years collecting to create this home for yourself, you see the walls that you slaved painting over in your favorite shade, the walls you have now filled with framed moments between you and your favorite people. You see the moon's reflection as you step into the kitchen, realizing how beautiful moments like this are. You begin to romanticize about numerous what ifs. You grab a glass and take the water from the fridge and accidentally overfill... I'll clean it in the morning you think, instead you chug the entire glass of water. Instant relief. Just in case, you decide to refill the glass and take it to bed with you. You take a sip and start to make your way back to bed. You think your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, so you walk with a little more negligence. Without even realizing you stop paying attention to all the furniture and the walls; they've been there for years, obviously everything will be fine. You're about to make your way around the corner when it happens, the most excruciating pain in your life.
How did this happen? You never saw it coming, this harrowing pain! You go to set the glass down, but in the wake of this terror you clumsily set it down and it spills everywhere. You detest the glass, you loathe whatever it is that has caused this nightmare, and you abhor yourself for even getting out of bed, for being thirsty. You can't see how bad it is, a gaping wound, a scratch, a bruise, all you can tell is that it hurts like nothing before. After an eternity of cursing everything you can, you limp back to your bedroom. There it is, your comfort, your saving grace, all that you had wanted before your throat withered like seaweed in a desert. A glimpse of hope has arrived. You lie in bed, toe still throbbing, hoping that you can recreate your former splendor. You try every position; rearrange the pillows, the comforter, and the sheets. Nothing. You end up tossing and turning for a few hours before finally falling back asleep, but it still isn't like it was before.
Morning hits and you must face the world. You open your eyes, the pain is now bearable, just a muted throb at the end of your body. You check your toe, to see the damage, and you find it swollen. Broken, you think to yourself, great! As we are all aware, the only way to heal a broken toe is with time. So you go about your life, the pain palliating, but every now and then, something provokes a quick reminder, a slight pain. It happens, and you hate it all over again, but eventually, it finally heals. You can finally start walking how you used to, before that calamitous thirst.