My partner, Ramon, sleepwalks.
He’s wandered barefoot through the halls of my college apartment building, stood in the shower on the verge of “getting ready,” and eerily swayed at the edge of our bed in the dark.
While his condition makes for a good story to laugh about with each other and with our friends, I quickly realized his sleepwalking is just as frightening as it is entertaining. And it's an experience I essentially deal with alone because in the morning Ramon can't remember wandering away. Usually when I realize he’s missing from my side in the middle of the night, I get up to guide him back to bed -- sometimes resentfully. And though I have my troubleshooting routine down after our six years of being together, I still worry.
What if I don't catch him in time and he trips down the stairs? When I leave town, he tells me about waking up on the living room floor and I imagine the worst possible scenarios and worry for the rest of my trip.
We don’t know if we should be handling his sleepwalking differently than we already are but I do have this satisfaction: even in his sleep, Ramon always says “I love you” back.
Ramon is often caught in the space between dream world and waking life. This ongoing project creeps into that space, what surrounds it, and how we’re dealing with it together. (2014 - present)