• 05 Nov, 2025 *

For such a seemingly mundane and necessary biological process, we place a lot of romanticism on sleep.

It’s the subject of poems, songs, metaphors, plays. There’s 1million famous quotes about it that I love-

“Goodnight, sweet prince-”

“To sleep, perchance to dream,”

-which are both from Hamlet of course, because I’m obsessed. I’m a big fan of the song ‘I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing’ by Aerosmith, which was either written for or popularised by the movie Armageddon, which I am also a big fan of-

“I could stay awake, just to hear you breathin’... watch you smile while you are sleepin’, while you’re far away and dreamin’”

-we use the phrase ‘sleeping with’ to mean sex, in a way that’s much more implicative than ‘making love’, but much less explicit than ‘fucking’. We pose the ability to dream as a quantitive measure of consciousness and self-awareness. We equate sleep with death, in a way that’s so much more sad and peaceful and gentle than most of the other metaphors we use.

Sleep is important to us. For such a simple biological process of resetting and resorting and refreshing, it nevertheless has a mystical quality. It is the doorway to the next moment. It is our most vulnerable state.

For many people, if you are lucky, the place where you sleep is one of your most private. It’s a place only for trusted friends and trustworthy family. Allowing someone to be nearby while you are sleeping is a gesture of trust, almost regardless of the circumstances.

There’s a peaceful joy in listening to someone’s unconscious breathing, whether you are falling asleep alongside them or dutifully keeping watch as they rest. For many people that I know and care about, it might be the only time they’re not keeping up a mask of some kind. It’s an entirely genuine moment, unique to them.

I remember almost every occasion when a person I care about has fallen asleep in my presence for the first time. Maybe I am just a romantic, sappy dumbass and ascribing too much meaning to such a simple event, but every time I have felt intensely honoured. It’s a sacred moment - every time, I feel a sense of obligation to let them sleep in peace, avoiding waking them at any cost.

You’ve probably guessed by now that this post was prompted by one of those moments, ongoing at the time of writing. I’ve muted my mic so I can type without the keyboard noise bothering her, and every now and then her mic picks up the edge of a breath or a little shuffle of fabric, almost imperceptible if not for how quiet everything else is right now.

I have that golden, rough-edged glow of contentment fluttering in my chest. I can’t help but be grateful for everything that lead to this moment, and so many others like it. I dearly hope I’m not the only one who understands this feeling.

Aerosmith knew what was up. Goodnight, friends. I miss you!

💚💛💚💛

“...Don’t wanna close my eyes, don’t wanna fall asleep... ’cause I’d miss you, baby, and I don’t wanna miss a thing-”