Once upon a time, at 2:30 am last night, someone grabbed my arm really tight. Of course, I woke up, and Kenneth was holding my arm, and then he started pulling my arm hard. I asked him what he was doing, and he said “Is that better?” And I said “yeah” even though I had no idea what he was talking about.
When we woke up in the morning, I asked him if he remembered what happened last night. He said, “Yeah, I was pulling on your arm. You were falling off the bed, and I grabbed you.”
I told him that I wasn’t falling off the bed, and he asked if I was close to the side, to which I said no. I wasn’t even close. I was perfectly fine, until I was rudely woken up by his sleep . . . talking.