Finally.

I finally did it.

It's almost been an entire year.

It's time.

I think so, anyway.

Beyond time, if I'm being truthful.

And so.

I finally did it.

I shifted.

Moved.

Recognized what I'd ignored all along.

I finally did it.

It's been months.

Upon months ...

For many months my daughter was with me.

She took the empty spot.

On the other side.

Didn't want me to be alone.

Likely didn't want to be alone herself, but I went with it.

Accepted it.

Did, as parents do, what we, I, felt and believed she needed.

She'll return to her space, they told me.

She'll go back, don't worry.

And you know?

I wasn't worried at all.

I knew.

I knew it wasn't easy for her.

Transitions never are.

I knew she would go back.

And I knew I would be okay until she did.

And then okay after.

And in the meantime, I slept, quietly, next to her.

On what used to be my side.

But now, she is tucked away in her room.

And now, I sleep soundly in my own.

And now.

Finally.

I sleep.

In the center.

Of my bed.

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