By sleeping together, I literally mean sleeping together. I don’t mean the euphemism for having sex. Heaven knows I have no problem saying that I’m having sex with a man. I don’t need to couch it in the more delicate socially approved phrase of “sleeping together.”
When I was young and romantic and unburdened by the cynicism of life experience, I thought sleeping together with my partner was incredibly romantic. Who cared if we were trying to cram two adult bodies onto a twin mattress in a dorm room that may or may not have had a roommate in the same room. It was romantic. So we didn’t sleep that well that night. We’d make up for it on the nights when we weren’t together.
Then I got old and crabby and my perspective changed a lot.
When I was married, my ex was a terrible snorer. Coupled with the fact that I was a light sleeper, we quickly figured out that long-term the only way we were going to survive without me killing him was for us to sleep in separate rooms. It’s a common solution among couples who include a snorer. The few nights we did sleep together when we had company who would stay in the guest room/his room, I didn’t often sleep well.
Fast-forward to after my divorce, and I’ve discovered that sleeping together still isn’t romantic for me even if my partner doesn’t snore. I’ve done it with some of my partners but not all of them. While I’ve enjoyed it at times, there have been many occasions where I just want my bed to myself and a good night’s sleep. I get resentful about having to share my space with another person.
I worry about how this will play out in the long run. I wonder if I will ever find a man whom I will want to have in my bed all the time or even more than just occasionally. I wonder if I will ever not feel resentful about wanting to sleep alone. Then again, maybe I’ll meet a man who prefers to sleep alone, too.
However, that thought is when what is left of the romantic in me kicks in, and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life sleeping in a separate bed from my partner. I would love to find someone who makes me sleep better with him than apart. I think it’s probably a fantasy up there with meeting Prince Charming, but still, part of me clings to it.
These are the little things I drive myself crazy worrying about. Maybe I should just focus on getting a date for New Year’s Eve instead.