Unfinished, untitled.

It's Sunday.

The day started with me slowly waking up to the sound of mom's footsteps downstairs. Instead of getting up, I pulled the blanket over my arm and curled my body in a fetal position. I shivered a little. I am cold. I am awake. I am lonely. I am scared.

Lying in bed, I contemplated on the events of the past days, months... I acknowledged that I am getting older, heavier and less attractive. The odds of growing old alone gets higher by pounds, wrinkles and years.

There was a time when I had someone to have breakfast with. He stayed in my life for a short time. He was a good man and it felt right. I let him in and for a while it seemed, my luck had changed.

Then, he changed his mind and went away. I was left asking myself where I failed.

I was happy to have someone to curl up with at night, someone to cook, to talk, to laugh with... It still hurts to remember those times when he would come up behind me and hug me tight while I am at the sink washing the dishes.

I started to cry. I couldn't stop no matter how hard I try. I pressed my face on my pillow wanting to go back to sleep. This new day had nothing new to offer me.

Dreaming sounded so much better...