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His snoring adds rhythm to my life

couple in bed

While others will write about their partners charm, elegance, love and devotion; I spent the whole of yesterday and the day before nominating that one thing from the hundred others, I would never change in him. At the end of introspective session, I felt like digging a hole and burying myself, as I was unconsciously captive to a seismic cacophony – “His Snores”. The one thing I never want to change in my partner is apparently the reason for more than 8% of divorces – Can you believe it? Even I can’t. Oh dear, this is really embarrassing!

A bit of clarification may lighten my red face. It’s not his snores but his “denial that he snores,” is the one thing I don’t want him to change. He culminates at the apex of cuteness and Mr Rosanna when he adamantly refutes his nasal bagpipes.

The ‘tryst with destiny’ moment came on the first day of our honeymoon; something about which no one had advised or given a lesson or I had read in the famous intimate fantasy ‘Fifty Shades of Grey.’ After the expected expedition of anatomic exploration and climax, we settled in each other’s arms in a romantic embrace. While I was evaluating the wedding and the festivities we had missed being the star attractions of the event, he silently slipped into his coitus dreams.

I don’t know when he started quietly, but then suddenly peaked a horrible crescendo of a loud freight train. Other than the carnal ecstasy, I was experiencing a raging nasal storm for the first time, which was rattling the foundations of our honeymoon hut. I plucked some courage and poked him with my elbow; and it suddenly stopped altogether. Believe me the deafening silence was comforting.

“What happened?” he asked unsophisticatedly and childishly.

“God damn! Your snores were killing me.”

“Who me?”

His guilt and innocence just floored me that day and I couldn’t help but smile. It’s been seven years now and every night I hear his ventilating tremors. Whenever I tell him that he snores, he opposes and declines all allegations with plausible deniability and domesticity. The childish face that he makes to conceal his self-perceived compunction, is adorable and charming beyond words. The day I don’t hear him sound like a lawnmower in bed, it gives me chills and I shake him to see if he is okay. It is a sort of reassurance for me, that he is having a sound sleep and is by my side.

His snore-gasm and the rhythmic audibility of our bedroom is an inseparable part of my life now, and something which I would never want him to change.

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