This bed was made for two, yet it still feels empty without you. The sheets twist and tangle, much like the echoes of our laughter that once filled this space. These pillows, once cradling our heads, now hold only the ghosts of whispered secrets. Your warmth fades too quickly, replaced by a cold that lingers in silence and longing. Moonlight spills through the blinds, tracing the spot where your touch once rested. I find you in my dreams, but like the tide pulling away from the shore, our love slips beyond my grasp. This bed, meant for two, stretches wide and hollow, like a map of the moments we once traced upon it together. And no matter how deep I sink into the mattress, it will never feel full without your embrace.