The Empty Side of the bed

You know one of the hardest parts of this single parenthood life I’m living right now? I hate waking up in bed alone.

I want to find myself curled up in a man’s arms. And before you take that somewhere else — I’m not talking about anything but the sweet, romantic kind of cuddling. The kind where you don’t have to say anything, you just feel it.

My husband wasn’t a big cuddler. That wasn’t really his thing. But back when things were good between us, he’d do it for me anyway. I remember waking up with his arm around my waist, and just trying to live in that moment — to soak up the love he had for me instead of already bracing for the day. Honestly, it meant a lot to be beucas eI now he didn’t like it but did it for me anyway.

Now the bed is always empty. Hell, most mornings even the dog isn’t there, unless they hears me moving around before the kids have taken them out. (Typical.)

So I’ve started doing little things. An extra pillow, to make the bed feel less like a wide open field. Sleeping dead center, to shrink it down to something that feels less like a void and more like a space I actually fit in.

And here’s the part that surprises even me: I hate waking up alone, but I don’t actually want to sleep with anyone. I’ve gotten used to tossing and turning, stretching out however I want, without worrying about kicking someone in my sleep. Nobody’s commenting on my snoring — because let’s be honest, I snore. So while I’d love to wake up wrapped in someone’s arms, the actual sleeping part? I’m good on my own.

It’s a strange kind of contradiction to sit with. Wanting the connection but not the compromise. Missing the closeness but not missing the negotiating-for-blanket-space part of it.

So tell me — what do you all do when the loneliness creeps in? How do you fill that empty side of the bed, literally or otherwise?