I hate sharing my bed. I get so used to the feeling of waking up and having someone next to me that I can’t help but yearn for it when it’s gone. I am the most vulnerable when I feel alone. And I swear, your bed feels a lot bigger when you no longer have someone sleeping beside you. A part of me feels as if I’m drowning in the open space; it’s overwhelming. There aren’t enough pillows or stuffed animals that can fill the void of another human body. You can wrap yourself up in a hundred blankets but it will never compare to being in the arms of another.
When I find a friend that provides me with the comfort I desire, I tend to latch on. I rely too heavily on the presence of others and I am trying to change it. Old habits are really hard to break. You would think someone who isolated themselves their whole life would continue to want to be alone; instead I fear the solitude. I fear spending the rest of my life alone. I know that should be the least of my concerns but it’s terrifying.