It Gets Really Bad

I cannot be in the same dwelling as my partner. Oops, ex-partner? I can't call her my ex, because that's reserved for my ex-husband. So we'll call her um...Hex. Because she's a Her and and Ex, and that can be Hex. Okay, matter settled.
Anyhow, I cannot be in the same dwelling as Hex. So we take turns being here in the house. For instance, on my days off, I am here with my children doing Mom Stuff. Hex and her child go elsewhere. The days that I go to work, Hex will be here with the children doing Mom Stuff and I go somewhere else.
The children are adjusting as well as can be expected, except for my little one, who misses her other sister, Hex's daughter, sooooo much. They are only ten months apart, and they grew up together from babies. They are best friends. And she cries because she misses her and my heart breaks. But there's nothing I can do.
At night, things get really bad. I try to surround myself with people in the evenings. And when I don't try, they come over anyway, which is okay. But after they leave, I am alone. I try to think of tasks to do for in the morning, like setting out the children's clothes. And then I'll find laundry to do. Or I'll make sure there's milk for breakfast, and I'll get sidetracked by cleaning out the fridge. Then I realize that I'm just trying to keep myself busy so that I don't have to go to bed by myself.
Or think about being alone.
So I go upstairs, because I'll have to fall asleep eventually. I put on a movie, a dumb happy one that won't make me think, that won't make me sad. It's really there for background noise, to fall asleep to. And I try to think about how my new place is going to look, and what color towels I want to buy.
Because I had better get used to sleeping alone.