I Want To Go To Bed Alone.

Via Sarah Brose
on Oct 11, 2013
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Photo courtesy of Shutterstock

I want to go to bed alone.

I love you more than our toothbrushes love kissing, but

When I wake up tomorrow morning and feel my eyelashes get warm

I don’t want you to be there.

Oh and,

I’d like a bigger bed please.

One of those King size kinds that implies a big strong boy needs to be there. And a man named Leon needs to sell it. And although I’d like you to be there, I’d like you to be there only to carry it. I’d like Leon not to be there. See

My staircase is windy and

My doorframe is small.

We’ll probably have to remove a frame or a door or a doorframe or something and, I don’t understand, I just need you to carry it and kiss me on the nose and then leave right after because

I want to go into my big boy bed alone.

I am a girl.

I want to slide my small body into what was built for something bigger because

I want to take up a whole small corner of the bed.

I know there’s room for you.

I know there’s room for you but I don’t want you to crawl through my bedroom window and fill it

Not just because my Dashboard Confessional days are dead now and no I’m not over I’ll never be over Joey or Dawson or the ladder she climbed on but simply because

I want the space to be there.

I want the space to be there and I don’t want to fill it.

I don’t want to fill it with anything you can see, see

I want to take up space just by breathing.

I want to take up space the whole other three corners of the bed just by breathing.

I want to starfish.

I want to breathe starfish.

I want to breathe starfish and I want to go to bed alone

Especially when I’m sad.

And I crave your arms your long arms your long brown monkey arms around me my face in your brown monkey chest like the baboons we watched at the zoo when you asked if I’d groom you and I laughed knowing I would,

Lost in each other,

I want to be lost without you.

Especially when I’m sad.

I want to brush my teeth first.

Tonight I’m even going to floss.

Not because I’m going to kiss you or my toothbrush is kissing your toothbrush but because dental hygiene is one of the key components to overall health and

I want to care about my health, see

I want to live to one hundred and three.

Not because I want to spend 103 years with you (although I would like to spend 103 years with you) but because my great grandmother did it and she did it with incredible Grace and she did it not for anyone but for herself and perhaps tea and biscuit time.

I want to wake up to pee.

I want to wake up to pee and I don’t want you to be there because

I want to run back to bed a little bit scared.

I want to run from the toilet before my pee is done because I heard something downstairs and I want to jump into my bed and into the arms of a bear whose never looked more like just a bear.

I want to wrap myself in arms I can’t hide in.

I want to have trouble falling asleep.

I want to have trouble falling asleep a little bit because I’m scared mostly because I miss you but partly because that pee feeling to still there and I can’t get up what if somebody catches me.

I want to find comfort in my own monkey arms.

And then I want to fall asleep.

When I wake up, I want to spread my limbs like noodles and

I want to look for you, reach for you

Like I spent all night becoming Al Dente, for you,

And I don’t want you to be there.

I want to lie in stillness sans you.

I want to wonder if your eyelashes are warm and

I want to wonder if you’ve missed me.

I want to not ask you.

Because even if I asked you and you recited a line from Pablo Neruda (like that part about the feet) words are just words and I’d never really know and

I want to be courageous enough not to know.

And I want to miss you so much I ask for a sleepover tomorrow. And the next day and the next.

And every 5437829075423098473208472 days of the year I want to go to bed with you. But every once in awhile,

I want to go to bed alone.

And even when we’re 103,

I want to slide out of bed even if it takes three hours. I want to slide out of the bed and slip down the stairs and sit in an upright chair.

And our granddaughter might come by because it’s still only 9PM and think I’m dead because I’m so perfectly still but then she’ll touch my nightgown-covered heart and feel me breathing and thank goodness grandma’s sleeping.

But I won’t be sleeping, see

I’ll be resting in space.

I’ll be sitting there in eyes-closed space feeling what it is to be without you.  

Because even when we spoon my bum between your thighs and your low belly there’s a spot where we’ll never touch. The natural curve of my lumbar spine will always move away from you. And there will always be space there, see

I know that toothbrushes can’t kiss forever,

and that this space will always be here.


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Ed: Bryonie Wise

Photo: Courtesy of Shutterstock


About Sarah Brose

Sarah Brose is a Yoga Teacher and Theatre artist who is interested in exploring the links between Yoga and Art. She believes Yoga and Mindfulness create the space and stillness required to cultivate the greatest amounts of strength, softness, courage and compassion. It is within this space that we come up with the most creative solutions to all of life’s problems. She enjoys writing and sharing words from this place. You can read more here.


52 Responses to “I Want To Go To Bed Alone.”

  1. I really loved this. I can’t say it strongly enough. I loved the feeling and the words. It really touched me

  2. Aella says:

    🙂 I enjoyed that very much.

  3. dalesdelectables says:

    I loved this one…I totally feel it and understand it because it's also me…

  4. Vickie says:


  5. This. is. B E A-utiful.

  6. salkafeline says:

    A beautiful and thoughtful piece about love – the need for it – and the courage to not be attached to it. I wish I had read this in my twenties. Perhaps I'll share it with my daughters when the time is right. Thank you!

  7. jacquelyn says:


  8. kathryn says:

    What a beautiful piece! I felt so touched when reading this!! I am in a situation where this is so helpful and wholesome! Thank you! 🙂

  9. purplecloudsatdawn says:


  10. Andrew says:


  11. exquisite and heartbreaking and intense. must read.

  12. Becca says:

    I am in love with this.

  13. sarahbrose says:

    I never said thank you, Scott. Thank you.

  14. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you, Aella!

  15. sarahbrose says:

    Isn't it wonderful when our hearts resonate? Thank you.

  16. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you, Vickie.

  17. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you for sharing the beauty.

  18. sarahbrose says:

    I don't know if any other comment could make me happier. Please share with your beautiful babes!

  19. sarahbrose says:

    I am happy to hear you bed is also filled with starfish (one starfish, as big as many). Thank you, Kathryn.

  20. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you for your sweet comment!

  21. sarahbrose says:

    You are! Thank you, Andrew.

  22. sarahbrose says:

    Your words make my heart louder, red-er.

  23. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you, Becca. It's so beautiful to feel these little connections.

  24. @Tamstarz says:

    Wow. As a writer myself I'd like to extend a bow, a hug and a hell yeah for this! Very lovely! A lot of women feel this way, they just are shamed at times for doing so, so they stay quiet. Gorgeous!

  25. Jenna says:

    Wow. Tears and chills. This is amazing and inspiring.

  26. Krissyha says:

    This pierced straight through to my heart. It is so beautifully written and I found myself lost in the words. I’ve read it over and over again for it speaks to me in such a way that is both uplifting yet tragic…. It’s quite simply beautiful. Thank you for creating this piece.

  27. jrpiet10 says:

    Full of tenderness and strength and fragility–so lovely!

  28. Rachel says:

    When I started reading this, I though I wouldn't like it. I am in a new happy and healthy relationship after having spent 2 years getting over a particularly codependent unhealthy one, the last thing I wanted to read was something that stressed being alone. But as I read I realized the way I see my new relationship is just what this poem is saying. It filled me with joy and reassurance that loving someone doesn't mean you can't love yourself and the time you spend with just yourself too. Your words are beautiful. Thank you.

  29. Joana says:

    wow…really touch me…I´ve gotta share with someone, maybe he will understand, because this is just what i´ve been told him: I want to go to bed alone!! thank you. thank you

  30. Alexandra Pitman says:

    Relatable! I enjoyed reading it.

  31. Adriane says:

    Saved this to my favs to reflect on. I want to wrap this passage in my heart and carry it with me. This touched me so closely I want to keep it forever.

  32. emmadilemma says:

    This is so beautiful!

  33. Shae says:

    THIS! Everything about this! It's something I would write, but you did a better job. My great grandmother lived to be 106. Thank you for this!

  34. sarahbrose says:

    106! surely your great grandmother and my great grandmother are dear friends. we are so lucky to have such long-living inspirations.

  35. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you, Emma.

  36. sarahbrose says:

    I think I've read and re-read your comment about seven times. i will wrap your words in my heart as you will wrap mine and together, we'll be warm.

  37. sarahbrose says:

    Thanks, Alexandra. It's so lovely to feel words resonate.

  38. sarahbrose says:

    i hope you shared! sometimes it's a little easier using someone else's words (that are your words, disguised). when i wrote this, i wrote it from all the women in the world.

  39. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you so much for your comment, Rachel. I wrote this when I was in a happy and healthy relationship as well, and I had a lot of aversion in allowing these words to come through. If there's anything I've learned in the last little while it's been that: the greatest gift I can offer anyone I love is taking care of myself.

  40. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you for reminding me that strength and fragility are friends.

  41. sarahbrose says:

    Oh oh, thank you for this comment.

  42. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you, Jenna.

  43. sarahbrose says:

    Thank you! I wrote this from all the women in the world.

  44. Henry says:

    This is the stupidest thing i have ever read

  45. CatCamp says:

    We love you too, Henry – and we will all save a big space for you not to occupy in our beds!

  46. imelda says:

    This is just beautiful *tears* how can I mark this as a favorite and save it? I would love to keep this with me and save it for a very long time.

  47. Erika says:

    THIS. Is the one of the most beautiful, soul stirring things I have ever, not just read, but felt. Brilliantly written, amazingly understood. Xoxo to you, soul sister.

  48. JULIE says:


  49. Lucky says:

    This is so soulful, beautiful and inspiring. Even more so when I read that you are interested in finding connections between art and yoga. I try to do the same. Sending you love.

  50. Cruz says:

    I have never been able to put my complicated feelings into words, but if I could then this would be it. Thank you for this