I now dread having to sleep in my own bed. Somehow I don’t feel at home here anymore. I don’t feel content falling asleep without you in my arms, your legs tangled up in mine, and your hair tickling my nose every time I take a breath. Maybe it’s too soon for me to talk like this, but I don’t care. I miss you so much. Every minute you’re away feels like an eternity, and the only thing that usually gets me by is laying in your bed, in your scent, waiting for you to quietly crawl back into bed with me and kiss my forehead as if to silently say, “It’s okay, I’m here again.” Now I fear falling asleep alone in my own bed, because I know you won’t be there to sweetly wake me up, like I’m becoming accustomed to.
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