This is from "Anywhere But Here", by Mona Simpson. I saw the movie and didn't like it, and assumed I had read the book, because I usually read the books before I see the movies, but I picked up the book at the library the other day and realized I hadn't read it, so I'm reading it now. (Phew! Could I get anymore wordy?! Somebody stop me!)
Anyway, here we go:
The wind was still blowing when we finally went to bed. At the very northern edge of the land, where it was dark and late and storming, sleep seemed the easiest state to exist in. I went to sleep there fully trusting the world not to harm me. I don't know if I ever felt that safe, before or again. My hands lay softly on the bed that night, my ear to the pillow as if that was where the comforting sound of rain came from. We were far away. I liked going to sleep knowing it was cold and no one was outside and we were so far away from anywhere else where the sky might be clear and other people might be living other lives.
I just love that.