My Side of the Bed.

 I realize I never sleep in the middle of the bed. There I continue to rest on my side of the bed, allowing the nightmares to take full advantage of the empty space. Where only my children can calm the quiet silence of another's absence. 

This afternoon I laid in the middle and examined how odd the lack of indention was. How long had this been here without my knowledge? When did I go from lonely to being satisfied alone? Was it in the middle of the night, where my dreams no longer made me cringe but gave me the imagination to believe in the better?

Or was it when I rose each morning with a gracious smile in the mirror? Finally, facing what I avoided for years; myself.