Noah's been gone enough by now that I can't remember how this started, but all I know is that when he's not here, Bean sleeps on my pillow and I sleep on his. I referenced it enough to him to where the last time he was home (for a day), he asked if I wanted to just switch sides, since I seemed to like the new sleeping arrangement so much. I declined, but then he pulled some shifty magic in the middle of the night and stole my pillow and I ended up being shunted to his side of the bed anyway.
The uncertainty is regarding whether I first started sleeping on Noah's pillow, whereupon Bean decided to start sleeping (and shedding all over) my pillow, or whether my cat kicked me off my pillow first (why can't anyone in this household just let me be when it comes to orders of the sleeping kind?). But either way, this is how it goes, now: Noah leaves, and suddenly I'm sleeping on the right side.
Truthfully, I prefer the left side. It's closer to the windows, so I get more of the morning light (which I crave). But also truthfully, even if Bean weren't here, in Noah's absence I'd probably still sleep on his side of the bed. Partially from the "forbidden fruit" aspect (even though I realize it's not exactly "forbidden")– in the same way that I listen to Coldplay and Norah Jones, or do the Shim Sham in the kitchen in the middle of the night, when he's gone– and partially because it helps me miss him less. Like how I used to wear his enormous Cal hoodie in our first year of dating whenever we were apart. Sleeping in my normal space and not feeling the warmth of his presence as he moves ever closer until he's practically shoved me off the bed entirely just makes me lonelier, so instead, I sleep in the space he's supposed to be occupying and somehow, somehow, that's enough for now.