The fifth night is the hardest?

I has a big, giant sad tonight. I don't know what it is, the longer this goes on, the sadder I feel at night. He left on Friday, so tonight will mark my fifth night sleeping alone. My fifth night of no snuggles, my fifth night without our bedtime rituals.

I've been relatively okay until now. Sure, after he left, I threw myself on the bed and bawled my eyes out for a while. But save for a few tears here and there (mostly thanks to the Radio Heartbreak Squad, the bastards), and last night's banking fiasco (for which he apologized again), I've been... okay... not necessarily un-okay... coping as best I can. But tonight, night number five, I can't seem to stop the waterworks from flowing. Maybe it's because I saw my psychiatrist today and I'm a little raw, maybe it's because I went to Costco and bought stuff that I guess turned out to be what I would buy for myself if I was living alone (which, for all intents and purposes, I am). Whatever the reason, I has a hugely painful, lonely sad.

I haven't been sleeping particularly well since this started. Heck, I haven't been sleeping particularly well for a few months now. The psych gave me something to help me sleep. I have a feeling the only help I'll need in that department tonight will come from my extra helping of tears.