Sleep is a temporary getaway from reality, the reality that I'm lonely. Single, by choice. But human everyday.
I miss being somebody's somebody.
Late nights when it's a perfect, crisp 58 degrees and I'm in your arms.
Cuddled and engulfed in your warmth and humming unsung lyrics to your heartbeat.
I miss forehead kisses, neck caresses and just being, alone but in the sweetest company.
I miss long conversations about Malcolm, Audre, Marvin, and Jill.
I miss laughter. I miss the complex simplicities of being in love deeply.
My thoughts drift back to this empty bed.
This too shall pass.