How well do any of us really know our friends? You may be confident of the answer to that, feel secure – smug, even – but be warned. One day, a little detail might accidentally slip out, and you’ll suddenly discover they’re not just a stranger, but also a bit weird.
Turns out my friend and her partner don’t have designated sides of the bed. They just sleep wherever, depending on who gets in first, like animals. She did at least have the decency to look ashamed after revealing this, and – perhaps I’m imagining it – also a little relieved. The burden of carrying such a secret must have weighed heavily.
They never even discussed or agreed upon it, it “just happened naturally”. To clarify, this isn’t anything to do with the recent slumber deep dive from psychotherapist Heather Darwall-Smith, where she advised that “sleep compatibility matters” in a couple. This isn’t a solution to a problem. It’s just a sick quirk. Anarchy.
Like, on which bedside table do you put your book? Who is in charge of the alarm clock? How do you ensure continual access to your preferred pillow? Such chaos is unthinkable, obviously, which is why this is so far from the norm.
My husband and I stick to our respective sides come what may, like normal people. No matter what. On holiday, visiting relatives, once we’ve finished swinging for the night.
I’m nearest the door, so I can escape fastest if a murderer comes in – although it’s only in writing this down that I realise it will only work if the murderer enters through the window. If they use the door, I’m finished. And yet still I wouldn’t dream of ever suggesting we switch sides. It’s too late, what’s done is done. I’ve made my bed, and out of sheer principle, now I will potentially die in it.
