Late at night, the speaker lies down and can't switch their mind off. Instead of rest, their thoughts bring back someone they used to hold. Where that person once was, there is now only a pillow, and the poem keeps returning to how strange that feels. The repeated "strange" and "this time" give the lines a slow, circling rhythm, like someone turning over in bed and getting nowhere.
The speaker feels heartbreak, loneliness and self-doubt. They gave everything they had, yet still wonder, "Is it because I'm not enough?" They imagine the pillow and the bed speaking comfort, which shows how much they want someone to console them. The last wishes are simple and sad: that the other person felt the same, and that "there was us."
The mood is quiet, tender and tired. It isn't angry. It ends with the speaker trying to accept the loss as just another chapter closing.