There is this poem http://www.deardiary.net/show/diaries/129617/1104451200 I really like it. Go read it now, before reading the rest of this entry.

I can't tell you how many times I have reached out in the night searching for someone who isn't there. Reaching over to feel the sheets and the pillows I have stacked beside me, taking the place of someone who isn't there, but I constantly feel should be.

I reach for this person as if I should be sandwiched between them and "The One". After holding the one while we fall asleep I roll over expecting to touch someone, expecting to rest my head on their sensuous flesh, but no one is ever there. Only the pillow, and I hug it as I long for whoever is supposed to be there. When I lay on my side facing "The One" I pull the pillow up snug behind me as if the heat bouncing back at me off it could take the place of someone being there.

I've never heard anyone else express this emptiness in their bed when the bed already contains two. It's nice to know I'm not as weird as most people reading this probably think I am.