I’m tired of sleeping alone. I’m tired of coming home to an empty bed and knowing that no one is yearning to lie beside me. I crave the connection that you feel to another person when you lie in the same bed. How innocent it is to want to be with company. I just crave the sound of another breath next to mine. The curiosity of what their dreams are about and the wishing that they are good.
I’m tired of lying in bed for so long that my thoughts become sad and numb.
I wish for another to lay in bed with me so that we can talk and laugh and make light of the world and our problems. I miss the way two people in love can find their bodies entangled under the sheets. The safe, wholesome feeling of laying on their chest and drifting into a peaceful sleep. The synchronization of two hearts beating together. I’m tired of analyzing my day alone, I want someone to be in bed with me so that we can break down each part of our Sunday and discuss it. It would be nice to wake up next to someone and have that settling feeling in your stomach that you are going to be the first thing they see today, you are going to be the start of their day. The goodnight kisses on the forehead. The good morning kisses on the forehead.
There’s a feeling of relief when you lie down in bed next to someone, knowing that they trust you enough to lay next to them during their most vulnerable time.
A sense of pride that this person has decided to share their most personal possession with you. A spot where they have relieved each of their days and relationships and been to the deepest alleys of their thoughts. I miss the nice reminder when you open your eyes and wake up that another person is laying next to you, both of you more defenseless than you’ve ever been and ever will be. I’m tired of having a bad dream and having to calm myself down from it. I would much rather be held and comforted than have to turn on a light before I can sleep again.
I’m tired of sleeping alone. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired.