What It Feels Like When Your Side Of The Bed Is Empty

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9 A.M.

A sweaty mess, I flip my pillow to the cold side before untangling my legs from the spider web that has become my comforter.

My heart immediately sinks when I roll over to your side of the bed and my skin doesn’t brush up against yours.

I can picture your tired eyes looking up at me in a daze,
Our giggles muffled by the sound of the fan oscillating next to the bed.

I can feel your little whispers rolling off of your tongue and tumbling into my eardrums,

Something about us not being pieces of shit and staying in bed all day, but also something about wanting to say fuck it and just doing it anyway.

I shake my head and the vision of you cuddled up in my arms blurs back into your empty side of the bed.

You are far away this morning.

The distance, a temporary wedge between our bodies and my bed sheets.

I smile at the thought of you waking up by my side because with you,

I am invincible.

Even if we’re only snuggled up in blankets, light peaking through the curtains, telling the daytime it could kiss our asses because it’s never a waste of a day when I’m wasting time with you.