Our Bed.

‘What’s yours is mine.’

Why aren’t you beside me in my bed, our bed? It’s awfully lonely without you, it seems to stretch for miles with your alarm clock faint in the distance. I’m not used to having such a vast space for slumber, you’re a key part to a comfortable nights slumber like pillows and a duvet. It’s just not right without you.

How am I meant to sleep without your legs stretching onto my side of the bed, or the strands of your hair tickling the end of my nose? It’s these silent nights that makes me realise the best nights sleep I’ve had is when you’ve been cuddling me so much I’ve ended up squashed between you and the bedroom wall. I lay sleepless staring at the ceiling with my hand scuttling across the mattress in hope it would crawl into the gaps between your fingers and stay there throughout the night.

The tick just mocks me in my consciousness, I could never sleep until I heard your breathing reach a set tempo and the silly noises you make comes as a lullaby to my ears. But you’re not here, and your breathing is out of reach so I can’t peacefully rest until I know you are. Silence is meant to be bliss, but it acts as torture to me.

When I wake up in the morning and you’re not beside me, it’s like a completely different room. You spent the night in my head, but when I open my eyes to an empty bed, my heart sinks a little every time as I hit reality. I stumble to the bathroom or to grab a fresh drink of water, hoping that you’ll be spread across onto my pillows by the time I’m back. You never are.

You’re asleep in your own bed, in your own house, spread out across both sides with all of the duvet wrapped around you. You sleep peacefully, unaware of the internal monologue of panic running through my mind. How am I meant to sleep when I can’t be there when you need me? You won’t tell me of anything goes wrong, I can only tell by your snoozed expression how your day has been.

They say there’s nothing like your own bed, but they’re wrong - there’s nothing like the company beside you. This bed used to be a luxury to lie on and I eagerly awaited the nightfall; now I eagerly await your arrival to tend to me through the night. It’s our bed, so you should be here with me. Then we can both lose ourselves in the slumber.

When you awake, you send me a text me wishing me a good morning and you always ask how I slept. I never tell you how I really feel, or how the night played out for me. I wouldn’t want you to worry, cause I know that you’d barely be able to sleep knowing what was going through my mind and that wouldn’t do either of us good. I just grit my teeth until the next night I fall asleep beside you.