Get off of me

Sharing a bed with another person is not easy for me. Now, it's been quite some time (Sigh) since I've had to worry about sleeping with someone regularly- and I do mean actual sleeping, you pervs- so I've gotten used to having my bed to myself. Generally, I sleep on one side of the bed anyway, but I do occasionally wake up and find myself sprawled out in the middle of the bed, using both pillows.
I think that a big part of a relationship is figuring out if you and your partner sleep well together. Everyone is different- some people don't move much (me), others kick and toss and turn (ugh.) Some people like to cuddle and sleep on top of their partner (yikes), others need breathing room and space. So what if you wind up with a kicker/cuddler, when you're a space-needer/stay-in-one-position-er?
Last night, after being extreme dorks by drinking beer and going through my friend Soren's iTunes citing which Justin Timerlake song is the best off of the new album and how that one John Mayer song sounds like that one Lionel Richie song, I decided to sleep at my friend Bucket's house. Getting around after midnight in the outter boroughs is a real pain in the ass, and usually involves a cab ride. Frankly, I didn't feel like shelling out $25 to get back to Astoria, so I just accepted Bucket's invite to crash in WillyB. Rather than sleep on the couch, I chose to sleep in Bucket's bed, with him. It was all very innocent, since Bucket likes the mens. Ironically, we passed out around 1:30, and I don't think either of us moved a muscle until the alarm went off at 7. (I had church this AM.) Figures- a man that I'll never actually "sleep with" is incredibly easy to sleep with.
So, in my infinite search for a decent man, I've added sleeping habits to the list. If I don't get a good night's sleep right from the start, chances are I'll be countin' sheep for the long haul.