The problem with sleeping alone is that you get very good at it.
Then when you do share a bed with another- not a child with a green rabbit, or another with study notes or boy troubles- but you know, someone with both an X and a Y chromosome, you may not acclimatise right away.
You may see yourself as a lady who takes up very little room. You may turn to them and say, snuggling is fine for a bit, even desirable really, and then I need space to actually sleep. Not alot of space mind you, just my corner of the bed.
And then you also say- no snoring either– I am a very light sleeper.
Now that the ground rules are set, you fall asleep, pretty as a picture, delicate as a butterfly. Sexy as a goddess. As fair as Sleeping Beauty.
Early in the morning,still somewhat asleep, you hear a loud noise- you forget where you are – is the heater in the hotel room broken? Is the place under construction? Are garbage trucks picking up trash outside? And then you float above your own body, still with eyes shut, to see that the noise is coming from you, that you are snoring like a boozy fatman with a sinus infecton, like a Fred Flintstone raising the roof with each exhale. You may open your eyes with a panic to find yourself sprawled across the bed in the wrong direction, leaving a square inch for a full grown man, who is lying obediently with your hand pushed up under his nostrils.
They have no choice but to find you
imminently appealing human.