Wake. Work. Eat. Sleep. Repeat.
Since Maya, you've gone through your days not really feeling real, always slightly distracted, feeling as though you're not where you are supposed to be. You find yourself going to bed earlier and earlier, and taking longer and longer to wake in the morning.
Toothpaste. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
The whole time you go about your day you can't stop thinking about her. The way her nose scrunches up when she laughes, the way she reaches out to touch your arm when she is talking without even realizing it, the way she looks at you as if you are the only man in the world.
And you aren't even sure who she is, even though you feel like you've known her forever.
And she feels more real than anything else in your life.
Garage door up. Start the car. Headlights pick out the snowflakes as they fall to the ground. Pull out into the grey air to run to the store. Garage door down.
Like it's a movie about somebody who is living the wrong life.
As the day turns to night and the snow turns to sleet you think about going to bed early again. Hoping Maya will be there, like she has every other night, turning and smiling to you in the bright sunshine and laughing when you say something funny, reaching out to squeeze your arm gently.
You realize that you're daydreaming about her, not even aware of what's on the TV. Maybe you realize that this is better than being awake, almost as good as dreaming of being with her.
So you turn off the TV and walk through the dark house to bed.
