I sleep diagonally now. I take up as much room as possible in this bed. It’s the best part of sleeping alone - all the space. That’s what I keep telling myself. It’s no matter that we used to sleep dead center, in a cocoon-like bundle of blankets and limbs. I never wanted the space then. I wanted my head in the crook of your shoulder, nose in your neck, arm draped over your torso. I wanted to feel the steady rise and fall of your chest. You were always so warm.
So when I crawl into this bed at night, I utilize the space that we never did. I place my head in the top right corner, legs stretched to the bottom left, sometimes even hanging off the sides. I use four pillows and two blankets, and I fall asleep with just a little bit of satisfaction.
Yet every morning, I wake, balled up in the middle of this bed, clinging to pillows and blankets as if they were you. Some people say the nights are hard to get through; the mornings are harder for me.