Your Side of the Bed

Before you were a part of me, the pillows were all the same. The bedding was meant not to provide warmth and comfort, but to compliment the design of the room. The bed was merely a place to sleep between hours of work and play. Everything was on display, as if in a cold, uninviting museum.

Then there was you. The pile of soft, fluffy pillows was moved to one side to accomodate your one firm one. Your side of the bed became a place of dreams of long walks in the moonlight, full of conversations about everything and nothing; a place of plans for the future - plans for vacations and holidays and birthday surprises; a place to share every thought, smile and tear; a place where our dream for children would come true. A warmth came with you. The thick designer comforter was tossed aside, replaced with a quilt made of pieces of you and me. Our room, no longer a designer showpiece, became a reflection of love and family and forever. Years of priceless treasure encompassed in just a few hundred square feet

And then....You are gone.

I can't go back to that cold museum that once was. Not after experiencing the heat of life and love. So I stand here looking up the long staircase. Each step leading me closer to isolation and lonliness. The door to our room is closed as is my heart to the ouside world. No one can make me feel good about facing your empty side of the bed. It's something I must face on my own. But when? Will time make opening the door bearable? Will I ever be prepared to feel the cold awaiting me inside?

I have to face it to move on. As I reach for the handle, the ice I expect to touch isn't there. My eyes closed, my breath held, I ease it open. The expected breeze of frigid air doesn't reach my face. I open my eyes to see the years still before me, hanging in our pictures looking back at me. I take a breath and reach for our quilt and feel that the warmth has remained. The you that became such a part of me is still here; Still breathing life into your side of the bed. I lay down and close my eyes to dream about long walks in the moonlight, full of conversations about everything and nothing; vacations and holidays and birthday surprises; and the beautiful creation of our children.

Your side of the bed isn't empty. I've discovered It will always be occupied by you