Yesterday, I laid in bed squished between my two children. My son was scrolling through funny YouTube videos while my daughter told me all about her birthday that I still haven’t started planning. Then, out of nowhere, she let out a dramatic little sigh and said, “Mama, I can’t wait until you get married.”
She never holds anything back, I tell you.
That definitely caught my attention. I turned onto my side and actually looked at her, ready to hear whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
Me: Why do you want me to get married so bad? You tired of it just being me, you, and bubby?
Her: Nope. But if you get married. I can be a flower girl, and you will be so beautiful. Do you want to get married?
Me: I sure do. Hopefully I will be married soon.
Her: I hope so, because this bed is too big for only you.
Kids will read your soul and not even apologize for it.
Later, after they went off to their rooms, I stayed right there in the middle of my bed. Normally, I sleep on the very edge, like I’m subconsciously making room for someone who isn’t there. But this time, I just laid there, staring at the ceiling, thinking, “This bed really is way too big for just me.”
It’s been eight years since I’ve lived with a man. Eight years since I’ve shared my bed. I don’t even remember what that feels like anymore. To fall asleep with someone beside you every night. To have another body there, filling the empty space. To not reach out in the dark and touch nothing.
Funny how a child can say one simple sentence and suddenly you’re lying in the middle of a too-big bed, realizing exactly how much space has been empty.
Maybe one day I’ll share it again. But until then, me, my pillows, and my emotional support blanket will continue holding it down.
Love ya, BYE!
Tee Talk 