Empty Bed

I have always slept alone.

Stretched out in my empty bed,

lying there in the darkness,

listening to cars drive by my window.

I don't hate sleeping alone,

its comfortable:

you don't have to worry about sharing the bed,

keeping someone awake with snoring;

you don't have to turn off the lamp when you really want to finish a good book.

No, I don't hate sleeping alone.

If someone told me I would have to sleep alone for the rest of my life,

I could probably bear that.

There are two moments that destroy the tranquility of sleeping alone.

The first is that time when you're lying in bed, waiting for sleep to carry you away

and you know you are alone,

that no one else is there to keep your body warm,

and no one is there to say good night to.

When you are lying there in the dark in that time between awake and asleep,

it is the most lonely moment of the day.

You know you have no one to share your life with,

no one to dream beside,

no one to comfort you if you wake up from a nightmare.

The second moment is the first few minutes you face when you wake up in the morning

The night is over,

You are ready to face the day,

your dreams are still lingering in the recesses of your mind.

You stretch out your arms…and feel nothing.

There is no one there to wake up beside,

no one to kiss good morning,

no one to fight with over who gets the first shower.

I could sleep alone forever if it weren't for those two moments.

I know I want someone to go to sleep beside and wake up beside.

Someday, I want to experience those moments with someone else in my bed;

maybe I'm not ready for those experiences yet.

That's all right.

I can face my empty bed for days, months maybe even years.

But I dream of feeling that warm body beside me,

and one day I hope to wake up and feel that same warmth in my bed.

An empty bed is bearable only if you hold onto the hope that one day it will not be empty.

April 12, 2010