I've fallen asleep alone every night of my life. For half my life there's been another person in the room, but that's not the same. While I don’t have anyone lying next to me to keep me warm, I've imagined someone there every single night. My arms around my pillow, fingers weaving between the sheets, I imagine a lover's hand, hair, face. I've woken up kissing the pillow, embarrassed, the next moment scraping lint and dust off my lips.