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-FRIDAY MORNING-
-One week later-
I had an alarm.
That alarm used to go off at around 8:10 AM every morning and sounded for only two seconds before I could hear it. It was a sonorous tune that rang with different assortments of string instruments in perfect harmony. I swore I could listen to it all day if it were possible. But for days, or to be specific, only seven of them—I hadn’t heard a single ring or buzz in the mornings. No emails to wake me from my sleep, no strange requests from a man I truly despised inside and out. For this particular morning of all mornings, I opened to my eyes to what seemed like a fictitious reality of sorts.
One where the tasks of my day didn’t consume me the moment the sun arised on the horizon just outside my window. A morning that with nothing, but what I had dreamed of in all of my adulthood. When I chose the hour of waking up for myself, cracking my eye lids open just to stare up at the ceiling and smile—no marked reason on why, just the tingling lingering on my limbs that caused my heart to race olympically fast always split my face into a grin with the reminder of the raw passion and care I received each day from the man I loved who still slept just down the hall—at least on some nights.
Waking up like this, sitting upward in my bed and staring my bookshelf that its decorated with slightly slanted spines, ruined by a night of playfulness. But the grin wouldn’t leave my face for second, it was to imagine frowning at time like this. Where everything seems so bright and lovely, there wasn’t a chance I could stop it, not now, not ever, not in the next life or past one.
I didn’t know what would happen in the next chapter of my life. I couldn’t turn the page and read it for myself, and that was perfect.
Everything surprising, spontaneous, and spectacular standing out and never fading from memory.
With all of those things combined, there was no need to know the next step.
There was pattering that sounded from the left of me. looked to my room door that was left wide open, swinging my legs from the mattress and resting them on the carpeted floor. The footsteps were reigning in closer and I wiped my eyes before leaning to grab my glasses from the nightstand. A blurred, tall, and tan skinned man appeared in the door frame, his fist resting on each hip as he presented himself like pillar of glory.
