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I think, maybe, of all the injustices society imposes upon teenagers and young adults, depriving them of this simple, utterly important comfort is the most horrible.
Just when we most need it, when we're most in need of comfort and belonging and simple warmth, we have to sleep alone in cold, lonely beds.
For most people, the first time they make love is in a car, or on a couch, hurried, nervous, panicked. The intimacy of sleeping by one another, holding her, holding him, is so much more important and necessary and good, and is denied for so long.
Waking up next to her and finding that she's more beautiful now than ever, without makeup and primping, just lazily and peacefully glowing. She'll never believe you when you tell her, but she'll still love to hear you say so.
Waking up next to him and finding him gently drooling on your chest, and still wanting to hold him so tight that he never has to face the world again, never has to see those fools who pass him by and don't see the man you love.
Most people don't know what they're missing until they're 18 or 20. That doesn't mean damage isn't done. To be deprived of one of the most important, basic comforts for the most difficult part of your life... To not even know how good it can be...
Lying next to each other, nuzzling her neck and gently drifting off, feeling her legs and arms tangle in yours, just wishing you had known this a few years ago, when you were so confused and frightened and lonely...
and feel at peace with her, with him, with yourself.
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