He's starting to snore again.
Well, not snore exactly. Just that pre-snore breathing that I know will only take a slight shift in weight, a tiny drop of spit, a slight plug of snot to turn the breathing into the familiar sawing of wood that can keep me up all night.
I'm a preventer so I place my hand on his chest in the hope that he isn't too far gone. Sometimes just my touch can cause him to shift towards me. This position seems to be the perfect one for his airways.....not so much for his back.
He doesn't move.
I softly shake him.
Nothing.
Finally I flip the "nag wife" switch, dismiss his sleep for my comfort and shake him. Hard.
"zzzzwhat?"
"You were snoring."
"No I wasn't."
While he is right I know that I was the one person awake during the moment so the disagreement was easily won by my logic;
"Yes you were!"
"...fine..."
He settles himself in and is quickly out again. Men get to enjoy that skill their entire lives, the ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. While I was never a heavy sleeper, as soon I became a mother I kissed deep sleep good bye. I am now always ready for Diana's bad dream, cough, fussiness, sneaking in late with peach schnapps on her breath. Everything. But being the selfish woman I am now I tend to wake up at the first "Mommy!", figure out that it's only a "I can't find my doll" type of "Mommy", and poke Dan to go help. It takes a moment for him to figure out what is going on, wipe the dreams from his eyes (most likely about lamb chops), and he is off on the white horse made specifically for Daddies.
I am willing to sacrifice a quick moment to be a superhero if it means I can stay under the covers. Besides I'm with her all day, I kiss all the boo-boos, soothe her broken heart, find the missing tiny toy that she has to find RIGHT NOW! I have earned this moment.
Quickly he is back and asleep again.
Finally I feel sleep start to poke at me. I nestle in deeper to my pillows and wait patiently for it to finally grab me. I know how hard it is for sleep to catch me so I appreciate the fall. It's satisfying.

I'm awake.
Dan has taken his revenge on me.
I use a large pillow for between my legs since the years of running have made my hips at least 10 years older. This pillow tends to turn into a padded weapon during the night as I settle into my fetal position. Dan often is awoken by it jammed into his back. When he brings this up during the day I tend to counter with "now you know how I feel" and he replies with "well you can take care of MINE, but you always say you are too tired". It's 3 AM, what other answer would he expect?
Anyway, when he is woken up by this he knows he doesn't have to say anything. All he has to do is flip over, heavily. This easily disturbs my card house of sleep and I am woken up. I will grunt a sorry and shift away. 30 seconds later he is back asleep and I'm back to having sleep try to chase me down.
30 minutes later the race is over.

For over 8 years we have done this dance. When we talk about it, complain about it, fight about it, it always stops at the same point.
"Well do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
Neither one of us wants that. We both take comfort in that dent of the other person's body next to us. I like being able to reach over when I have a bad dream. Feeling his broad chest in the dark gives me a level of comfort that no pill, cup of tea, glass of wine, ever could. His hand will crawl across the gap between us, sneak under my blanket, and softly cup my bottom. The sigh that escapes his lips when his hand finds his mark is not one of desire but of safety.
Everything is where it's supposed to be.

That moment when you are willing to give up a few minutes/hours of comfortable sleep just to have the person you love in the same bed as you.
That's the true sign of marriage.