Stranded at the airport in Mexico City, we stayed for a night in a Courtyard by Marriott in a room similar to this. Look at the size of the bed! It could easily sleep four, and there are but us two. Beds of these dimensions (king- size? emperor-size?) are becoming the norm in newer hotels, and I encounter them with horror. A bed this vast prevents a happy pre-sleep read because nestling against one’s partner is impossible: the reading lights are much too far apart.
More importantly, the enormity of bed prevents a good night’s sleep. I need to sleep near a body in the bed—actually, not near, but against. Some couples I know are now sleeping in different bedrooms because that’s the only way each partner can get a good night’s rest. I am just the opposite: I need a body beside me in the bed so I can fall asleep and stay asleep. Therefore, a small bed is ideal: he cannot escape my embrace! Nor, he avers gallantly, does he want to. He’s 6’3, so one would think our full-size bed would be too small. One would be wrong.
As a triathlete, he trains so much he sleeps instantaneously. By the time my teeth are brushed and my face is cleansed, he’s breathing rhythmically in bed. He’s usually lying on his side, facing away from me. His back is a tempting target and I abut myself against it. My reading light is still on, because I tell myself I’ll read “soon.” Sometimes I abandon that notion and just turn off the light. Other times, I do read for a while, legs against his, before clicking off the lamp.
If I’m not asleep in a few minutes, I squash my pillow against his shoulder and press myself against him, telling myself he is Morpheus, the essence of sleep, and sleep will seep into my body from his if we have meaningful skin contact. I may need to put my leg over his body to achieve this, and then, in his sleep, he will find and hold my foot. This is very peaceful, and soon I am poised on the edge of sleep, conscious I am losing consciousness as surreal images start to emerge. Sometimes I try to prolong that moment but I rarely succeed.
When I awake before dawn, he is gone, either biking or running or lifting. And then, if I’m lucky, Theo takes his place. Theo is eleven, an older dog now, and he likes his comforts. He does not like being on the bed when both humans are there; he doesn’t want to get jostled. But if it’s just me, he will sometimes hop onto the bed and flop himself down so that his hip is against my thigh. His head always faces away from mine, which I attribute to my morning breath. After all, dogs are 200 times more sensitive to smells than humans!
Dogs are about a degree Fahrenheit warmer than people, so in cool weather, they’re a pleasure to be near. The important thing is, we are pressed together, mammal against mammal.
You need a small bed for that.
I agree on the need for snuggle time. First thing in the morning we open the door and 2 cats arrive. Even if we had the world’s largest bed, cats still need to walk across a sleeping person to get where they are going. They lost their nighttime bedroom privileges. But morning snuggles with cats are the best way to wake up.
The pleasure of sleeping alone. Of getting up when I please, and going in and out of the room, without worrying about waking someone else up. That would be what I'd write.
But I loved reading about your love of snuggling with your partner!