Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.

My husband and I didn't live together before we got married. The only person I was used to having in my bed on a nightly basis wasn't a person at all. It was one (or both) of my mom's cats- Holly, the chubby one, or Hobbes, the neurotic one. They were good company most of the time and other times, when all they wanted to do was bat at my feet or meow in my face, I would just shut them out of my bedroom. I found that wasn't so easy to do with a husband. (Not that he ever meowed in my face. That would be weird.)

I'm pretty particular about the way I sleep. I need a flat pillow, and if the one that is available to me isn't flat enough, I'll go without one completely. I also need complete silence (Hence, the no meowing. I can't even sleep with the television on.) and complete darkness (Let's hear it for blackout curtains!). The room needs to be at a cooler temperature because I always use blankets. (Always.) Plus, I fidget. I fidget so much, my husband started calling me "Fidget". (That's a fun word to say. Try it.) But if my husband moves even a little bit while I'm asleep? Game over. I'm awake. And it takes me a long time to fall asleep. It doesn't matter how hard I worked that day or how little sleep I got the night before. Falling asleep is a process. Even more so now that my husband is gone and I have to revert back to my "old way" of sleeping.

So, here I am. It's after midnight. I've taken a Midnite (organic, non-habit forming, take anytime you want, sleep aid) and I'm...not sleeping. (Instead, I'm updating my blog via iPhone. Let's hear it for technology!) When people ask me how I'm doing, in relation to my husband being gone, I say fine. Because, at that moment, I probably am fine. I'm probably at work, surrounded by people. Or at Disneyland, surrounded by happiness. Or at home, surrounded by books and television. But at night? When it's too dark and too quiet and I'm alone in this big bed with nothing but a flat pillow and (don't judge me) one of my husband's t-shirts? I don't feel fine. It's lonely. And I would give anything for him to be by my side.

Or for, at the very least, this durn sleeping pill to do its job.