Our bed, my bed.
Not for a while now has this bedroom heard any of our noises. Not for ages since we parted, our bed has ever felt the same. As it is now mine, and mine it will be.
I never really liked the street lights peeping through the space that the blinds created, but I moved my bed to have a clear view of the dark sky outside. Needed a change I suppose.
The street lights from outside hits half my face as I peer out the space, then onto the wall above my head and for once I'm okay with it.
Okay with the changes. Accepting of what has happen and what will begin. Okay with it now and for the upcoming days of living.