I once hated falling asleep alone. Any sound seemed suspicious, any shadow behind the curtain was too long. I turned on the TV, left my phone under my pillow, wrote to someone until the last message.

But one day I turned everything off. Just because I was tired. I lay down, hugged the pillow and suddenly heard the house breathing.
The furniture was creaking, the faucet was dripping, someone was snoring behind the wall. All this is evidence that life is going on as usual, even if I'm not online.

Since that night, I fell in love with sleeping without unnecessary noise. I began to hear myself. My thoughts, which I used to hide behind TV series and other people's voices.

I began to fall asleep with the window open. I learned to feel how colder it is at night and how the air smells different. Sometimes I think I hear the leaves rustling on the tree outside my window.
Now I don't have to close my eyes right away. I let them fall slowly, as if sleep itself comes and says, "You're safe."

I'm no longer afraid that someone won't write at night. I don't expect that someone will definitely call. My bed is no longer a place of waiting, but a place of rest.
I hug the pillow and think: in this moment, I am only me. And that's enough for me.