The mornings seem to last forever now. Never have I roamed around in my house, watched the dawn, and done things other than necessary. I miss it even when I live in it. It’s all a dream.

Each morning starts with my favorite silhouette at the door. The shadow of her hand slowly caressing my forehead to wake me up. I don’t. I can’t. I’m already awake. I see it happen. But then a snap and I smell lovely breakfast. 2 mutts madly in love with the same woman. She feeds them both. One leaves for office while the other stays wagging his tail.

Remembering the same unperturbed love, true to its center, when all beliefs made sense. The smell of the breakfast: breaking my fall into a mindless abyss, that smile: breaking my heart into a flutter, that kiss: the longest 30 seconds of my life (that I got…