It’s always so odd to spend your first night in a bed in which you’ve never slept before, in a room you haven’t yet come to know know. Sure, you know it’s your bed, your place - you can see the key to the front door hanging from a hook by your doorframe. You’re swaddled in your own sheets and blankets. But somehow, it’s laborious trying to reconcile the fact that you feel like you’re in a stranger’s house. As you lay there, you realize you don’t know the way the ceilings contour, the way the room echoes, or exactly what’s outside your sole window. Lessons in learning how to sleep again.
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