Member-only story
Sleeping in the Middle of the Bed
I decided it was time. It was a weird night.
For just short of two years, I have maintained my side of the bed. The left side facing the bed. I don’t move much when I sleep so I would venture to guess I take up about 14 square feet of real estate in a California King.
The other side of my bed is not occupied by a person but a wide array of miscellaneous things: a few books, highlighters, pens, my laptop, bobby pins, decorative pillows, a perpetually unread copy of The New Yorker.
Interestingly, when I go on vacation, I sleep in the center of the bed. I became a bed glutton. I hog the whole thing and use every pillow available in the place. Never do that at home. At home, I squeeze right up to the edge.
I decided that last night would be the night I would take over what I had previously joked to be the “Bed Demilitarized Zone.”
My ex-husband was not very affectionate. He wasn’t a cuddler. When we slept, he slept on his side and I slept way…over…there. Occasionally, I could coerce him into spend a few fleeting moments in the Bed DMZ.
It was about six and a half minutes of…
