Where Does This Fall on the Adorable->Pathetic Scale?

From time to time, people have remarked to us (or to me about us), that they find it strange how often devoted partner and I do separate things. Or how we don't call to check in on each other. Or how, except in very very specific cases, there is no resentment/jealousy/peevishness about the time we spend apart. But I still get a lot of, "what does devoted partner do/say/think when you do x?" I think that having independence makes us value our time together more, but it might not be for everyone. Still, the one thing we both rely on and look forward to is that last moment of the day when we're in bed together.

So, last night when I realized that, by virtue of dropping him off at the airport I would be sleeping alone, I was kind of sad. We really don't spend many nights apart - the last time was a year ago. And it was my first time sleeping alone in the house. The scary, poorly lit, no-one-can-hear-you-scream house. I locked the doors for the first time in a while.

Then, after watching Steel Magnolias (something I would probably not do if I was sharing the couch), I became listless. There was no one to bother. I went to Whole Foods to do some shopping for the weekend; I made an upside-down nectarine cake (much more like a tatin - it needs creme fraiche to cut the sweet); I poked around on the internet.

And then I changed into one of devoted partner's shirts, arranged blankets and pillows on the floor of the living room, and fell asleep watching tv. Now I can make up some bullshit about how we don't have a tv in the bedroom anymore and falling asleep to tv is a luxury I can only experience when I have the house to myself, but the truth is, I kind of didn't want to sleep in our bed alone.

I know. It sounds crazy. It sounds a little unbalanced. But our bed is where WE sleep. I don't know where I sleep anymore. I'll try to be a little more evolved come Sunday night; thank goodness Amy has given me a reprieve (and a spare bed) in the Berkshires for the weekend!