Where I Was Before You

14. The morning after

I wake up, still having the intense memories from last night flashing in my head, but still feeling fresh and rejuvenated. I open my eyes and rub them, stretch my arms as sit up, and look around my room, expecting to see Freddie somewhere hiding. But my room is empty, not even CJ is cuddling up next to me like she usually does. My blinds were open though, the early morning light was almost blinding. That's weird, I don't remember opening my blinds last night. I slowly get up and turn my phone on. 9:30 am. Better, not usually my normal time but I'm falling back into the pattern.

After washing my face, I leap downstairs and start humming Somebody To Love to myself. I'm feeling a little more chipper than usual, so I decide to open my lounge room curtains to let more light in. I'm sure Freddie will be surprised that I'm not acting like a total vampire for once. Speaking of Freddie... I walk into the kitchen and expect to see the lanky, messy haired and picture perfect man standing there, contently nursing his cup of freshly made tea. But for the first time in quite a while, I walk into an empty kitchen. No Freddie, or Kelsey, or Lance. I'm sort of glad, I don't really know whether I could face him just yet after his temper tantrum last night. I'm never the first person awake, regardless of the fact that I always try to get up early in the morning, Kelsey always beats me. She's always there in the kitchen, with her hair already perfect, even though she just woke up, and cooking something disgustingly healthy for breakfast, but it's never not delicious. It was comforting to wake up every day to my sisters smile, and a homemade breakfast (by the way, I'm not obsessed with my sister, I have the normal amount of endearment toward my sister that a younger sister should have). But the kitchen was empty. And I, for once, was the first person awake. At least I thought I was.

I walk around downstairs, checking every room and both the bathrooms, calling Freddie's name in each but not too loud, in case he was still sleeping. When I had checked the last room and still found no trace of Freddie, I realised he was still asleep. Wow. I listened to the eerily quiet morning stillness of my house. Something that I've never really experienced before. I know you're probably wondering, 'what about when Kelsey stays at Lances the night?', well, Lance has a roommate called Stan, and let's just say he's a little... abrasive (if abrasive is even in the same category as trying to aggressively flirt with your roommate's girlfriend, that you know is his girlfriend, while your roommate is still in the room). So if Kelsey was ever going to spend the night with Lance, it would be at our place. I sit on the couch in the same place I always sit, staring out the window, usually on my phone or Macbook, and realise that I haven't even really touched my devices in 3 days. Who am I? An actual, living, breathing human being? Can't be, that's impossible. And yet, as I actually hear the birds chirping outside my window, I know it's true.

Now. Breakfast time. I look around my kitchen for something easy to cook. I don't really like putting too much effort into my meals. The only reason I'm not 150kg is because of my sisters healthy cooking obsession, and my obsession with controlling my eating. I mean, who isn't obsessed with their weight in 2018? Or at least has been at some point in their lives. I'm usually so drained by it, by having to think of nothing but what I weight. But I've been so distracted lately, that I can barely recall the last thing I ate. Is that good?

I find some pancake mix in the cupboard (vegan and organic of course.. Kelsey does the shopping) and decide that's good enough. I heat up the pan with a crap ton of butter and shake the bottle of pancake mix, pour in the first batch and set the heat to low. I have some time to kill before I have to flip, so my eyes start to drift around the kitchen that I have studied oh so many times before. Every time I look at our backsplash it looks more ugly, it's a very light yellowy coloured tile with a grainy texture to it that makes it look like I never clean our kitchen. Our benches were wooden planks, that for some reason, apparently didn't look woody enough, because the original builders decided to add that awful, plastic-y cover fake wood stuff. I don't know what its called, but if you have an old kitchen, you would know what I'm talking about.