It may come from dreams. The good dreams, the distantly warm and affectionate dreams. It may come from the kind of dreams that make waking up alone, cold, and in the dark an unacceptable reality. Yet the alternative—a warm body invited into bed for the sake of a warm body—is worse. It is weakness. It is a betrayal of the notion that someone is worthy of this place beside me. Someone’s arm is better laid across my chest. Someone is most beautiful lying naked on her side with me behind her, enveloped, warmer than any dream and certain in her belief that we are deserving of each other.