It’s Not Sleep You Miss, It’s Someone to Wake Up Beside

It’s not the night that feels too long—it’s the silence that feels too loud.

They don’t tell you this when you’re young—
that there comes a time in life when sleeping alone no longer feels like freedom,
but like an unfinished sentence.

This solitude is intoxicating.
You sprawl across the bed, claim every inch of the blanket,
and feel proud of not needing anyone.
The silence feels peaceful, the dark feels calm,
and you convince yourself you are enough for your own company.

But time changes the way nights feel.
Somewhere along the way,
the bed begins to look too big for just one body.
You notice the other pillow lying untouched—
a silent witness to the conversations that never happened,
to the laughter that didn’t spill into the night,
to the “goodnight” that was never whispered in the dark.

It whispers memories into your ear, presses its cold weight against your chest,
and reminds you of every conversation you wish you could have at 2 a.m. At first, you think you miss “someone.”
But with time, you realise you miss belonging somewhere—
to a voice that says “goodnight” without looking at the clock,
to a warmth that’s not from a blanket,
to a heartbeat that’s close enough to make your own slow down.

The silence you once called peaceful, starts speaking in a language you wish you didn’t understand.
It says, “You are safe, but you are not held. You are home, but not in someone’s arms.”
And that’s when you realise—

it’s not just about missing a person.
It’s about missing the warmth of belonging.

It’s about missing a voice that says, “Sleep, I’m here.”
About missing the soft weight of a hand resting on yours.
About missing the gentle sound of another heartbeat beside you,
syncing with your own until the world outside no longer matters.

After a certain age, sleeping alone feels heavier.
Not because you can’t sleep—
but because every night reminds you that some parts of life are meant to be shared.
And no blanket, no matter how warm, can replace the comfort of a soul who chooses to stay.
So you lie there, eyes open in the dark,
and wonder if somewhere, someone is also staring at their ceiling,
thinking of you— wishing the same thing you do:
that someday, the night will be quieter not because it’s empty,
but because you’ll finally be home in each other’s arms.

~AV✍🏻✨