Lovebug

Tuesday

The morning. 6am. Tuesday.
I have a package coming in the mail today.
Feet, cold floor.
I stand up and walk to my alarm clock.
6:01 am.
Unplug.
Plug back in.
12:00 am.
Rapid clicking. 6:03 am
I look up and see myself in the mirror.
Tired, bags, split ends.
Next I walk to the bathroom and brush my teeth. 25 steps. Routine.
Hygiene. Brush my hair. Cleanliness.
I walk back to my bedroom. 25 steps.
Get dressed.
I try 4 pairs of jeans before deciding on shorts.
Tank top, no underwear.
I look at myself again, she looks bored.
6:14 am.
I sit on the foot of my bed, feeling the fabric of my comforter. It's not soft. I should get a softer comforter.
6:16 am.
Terrible fabric.
6:20 am.
Fuck I hate this comforter.
At 6:21 I rip the comforter off my bed and shove it in the closet.
At 6:24 am, I take it out of the closet and put it back on my bed.

It's cold in my house.
Feet, cold floor.
I walk 6 steps to my desk.
I sit down.
This chair is old and wooden, designed to live in the kitchen.
This chair is the source of my sore hips.
Clicking, tapping, blue light, muscle memory.
6:27 am I check the news.
News. Another powerful man has said something disappointing. Celebrity divorce. Buzzfeed cat quiz.
Tapping, closing tabs, opening new tabs.

L: are you awake?
M: never slept.
L: bummer
M: busy?
L: you know I'm not.
M: it's polite to ask.
L: I'm on my way.

Tapping, clicking, closing tabs.
I shut down my computer.
6:33 am.
Closet, shoes, laces.
Nightstand, earphones, phone.
Whale sounds.

I walk down this road almost every day. 17 minutes to see him.
Miguel is kind and has never asked to touch me.
Though I'd let him if he did.

Sidewalk, rhythm.
I avoid the cracks, I love my mother.
Whale sounds.

I walk up his front steps.
6:51.
I stand in front of his blue front door.
336.
I wait outside for 3 minutes and 20 seconds.
I arrived in 20 minutes and 20 seconds.
I step inside without knocking.
His living room was decorated by his late grandmother.
The floral couch perturbs me every time.
Laces, shoes, feet, cold floor.
Forgot to wear socks today.
He will notice that.

I put my earphones in my pocket and leave the whale sounds playing.
I shove my watch in my pocket also.
He hates how often I check the time.

Concrete stairs, cold.
The basement is dark and damp.
It smells like Miguel's body and spilled orange juice.

"No socks today, Lovebug?"
"No socks today."

Told you.

"I've been thinking about my grandmother a lot recently"
He says to me, spinning around slowly in his computer chair.
I sit down on the old moldy couch that lives next to his bed.
"Is that so?" I say
"Yes, I think you would have liked her."
"But would she have liked me?"
"Absolutely not"