When Did Your Heart Go Missing?

A few nights ago I awoke to what felt like a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I jolted awake, but not too abruptly as to frighten away my potential cuddler. I looked around and a sudden pang of fear was present in my heart. These warm arms gently squeezing my mid-section felt strangely familiar, like those of a former lover that I'd like to forget. For a second, I thought it was him.
To my relief, I imagined the whole ordeal. I awoke to find no one there. While I was relieved that my ex-boyfriend had not covertly crept into my house to hold me in some bizarre attempt to win me over, I was happy for the first few seconds before struck with fear. I miss being held or waking up to someone pleasant. I'm lonely.
I guess this was kind of like when you hug someone for a really long time that you don't want to let go and then when they finally break away and leave, their imprint still seems to linger on your body. Even though lovers have come and gone, their imprint still remains on my body, choosing to resurface on some random morning when I was least expecting it. That was the last thing I needed to feel in the midst of packing my emotional baggage. It seemed to only spill the contents of my heart all over my room.