It only took one year
To get over the fear
Of being alone

It was gradual
The way you train animals
At first, I couldn’t stand the silence

In my room, the darkness came
Like a blanket
Of velvet

I would gasp for air
Shaken with the thought of my own mortality
My hands reached for safety

But in that room,
All that remained
Was me

Not your smell
Or the weight of your body on the mattress
Or my memories

I can’t pin point when it happened
I can’t definitively say when I lost the fear
Because I don’t think you ever truly lose fear

Fear shifts to other things
Before I would notice my breath
Alone and fear these moments with myself

But each night
As I grew tired of reaching for a shadow
My eyes began to grow heavy
And my breath would steady

My body would stretch across the bed
Letting go of any boundaries one would have
No longer worried of disturbing another

This bed was mine
This room was mine
This life was mine

And instead of waking with fear of my solace
I began to fear if I would ever trust anything more than the freedom of being alone.