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Sleeping alone
All two's, again...
About a year ago Pat and I hit one of our periodic poly-dramatic periods, triggered by her feelings over my going to alt.polycon7 with a different partner. Without exhuming further details, I wound up sleeping alone amidst threats of breakup and divorce and custody battles. Initially (first month) on the couch in my sleeping bag, then in a garage storage room that I converted into a tiny bedroom. For the first time in 20 years, I became used to sleeping alone at home. Overnights with other partners were generally lovely and warm, but infrequent given LDRs.
Later (August) Pat and I reconciled (well, somewhat, with another rough patch in October) and began sharing a bed again. And other activities ;-). Initially I only joined her if I was planning to be home, and was explicitly invited into her bedroom. Since the beginning of 2002, I've had a blanket (ahem) invitation to sleep there whenever I want, even moving back in if I wanted.
But I choose to spend some of my nights (about half) alone, still. I love Pat dearly and enjoy cuddling... but I've discovered that I need my own space, literally and figuratively. A retreat and refuge. And my household declaration of independence, of sorts, of personhood co-existing under the same roof with coupledom. I can't be sent packing from her bedroom, when my things are in my room. And our housekeeping preferences are different, and I'm often up much later.
More critically... I could choose to spend every night at home burrowed warmly in her arms, but that would lead to expectations of more of the same. My nights would no longer be my own, not entirely. And when I chose to spend a night elsewhere, it would feel (has felt) to her like something of hers was being taken. Instead of the nights we spend together feeling like a gift and a blessing.
This is necessary, I think, but is hard sometimes. Being lonely and cold in one's own house (my room is unheated) isn't fun. But my future, the person I'm becoming, depends on being able to define myself, and that requires both interaction with my friends and loved ones and solitude. Three nights a week isn't that bad of a price, even when it is 45 outside the blankets...
About a year ago Pat and I hit one of our periodic poly-dramatic periods, triggered by her feelings over my going to alt.polycon7 with a different partner. Without exhuming further details, I wound up sleeping alone amidst threats of breakup and divorce and custody battles. Initially (first month) on the couch in my sleeping bag, then in a garage storage room that I converted into a tiny bedroom. For the first time in 20 years, I became used to sleeping alone at home. Overnights with other partners were generally lovely and warm, but infrequent given LDRs.
Later (August) Pat and I reconciled (well, somewhat, with another rough patch in October) and began sharing a bed again. And other activities ;-). Initially I only joined her if I was planning to be home, and was explicitly invited into her bedroom. Since the beginning of 2002, I've had a blanket (ahem) invitation to sleep there whenever I want, even moving back in if I wanted.
But I choose to spend some of my nights (about half) alone, still. I love Pat dearly and enjoy cuddling... but I've discovered that I need my own space, literally and figuratively. A retreat and refuge. And my household declaration of independence, of sorts, of personhood co-existing under the same roof with coupledom. I can't be sent packing from her bedroom, when my things are in my room. And our housekeeping preferences are different, and I'm often up much later.
More critically... I could choose to spend every night at home burrowed warmly in her arms, but that would lead to expectations of more of the same. My nights would no longer be my own, not entirely. And when I chose to spend a night elsewhere, it would feel (has felt) to her like something of hers was being taken. Instead of the nights we spend together feeling like a gift and a blessing.
This is necessary, I think, but is hard sometimes. Being lonely and cold in one's own house (my room is unheated) isn't fun. But my future, the person I'm becoming, depends on being able to define myself, and that requires both interaction with my friends and loved ones and solitude. Three nights a week isn't that bad of a price, even when it is 45 outside the blankets...
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-J
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I'd also agree with you personally about *sleeping* alone often being better than sleeping with company. I adore *falling asleep* intertwined with a companion... but once asleep, I actually sleep better alone.
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