How long is it?

How long are you unaware of everything that happens? You do not know, but it must surely be a long time, for when you finally do realize what is going on, it is too late. This, you are used to. You always were too late to do anything. And now, where you stand, quite silent, quite alone, again, you have stayed unaware far too long. If your life could be saved, the moment in which such a thing could be possible has long passed. You might be okay with this. You might be, if you could redo things.

But you can't change the past.

The day is bright, as expected. When you wake up and head downstairs, John is there. He is smiling, like he always is, and you offer a smile in return. You know he loves seeing you smile; and for him, you will. You sit at the kitchen table, and there are muffins for breakfast, something not terribly uncommon. John says his father had made them, of course he did, he won't stop with the baking, and he rambles, and you tell him to shut up but you don't really mean it because you love his voice. It's the one thing you can't hate. You could never hate anything about John. In fact, you love his voice. You love it when he hugs you, you love the smell of him, you love how his kisses are always so sweet. You love it all. Not for a moment do you think, this is all too good to be true. You deserve such a quiet, peaceful life, don't you? Indeed, you do. And this is something you can stand.

The day is dark, the sun, hidden. That's okay. You can stay in and watch movies, bad or otherwise, with John. It is raining softly, and you take a moment to stop and appreciate the soft sound before heading down to breakfast. You eat. John suggests going outside, and you predictably shoot that one down, telling him the weather is far too bad for such things. He offers the idea of movies. This, you like, and this, you take.

You get the works; popcorn and soda, crappy snacks that you can't eat too much of. You watch some of his crappy movies, and you actually like them. They're entertaining, yes.

Today was fun. Today was a day you don't appreciate as much as you should. And tomorrow, it all falls to pieces.

When you wake, it is unlike the usual. Your head is throbbing, and it throbs all the more upon seeing that the weather hasn't improved. You shrug this off; this happens, you often have these headaches you can't shake, but that's okay, you can always lie in bed with John and sleep it off. It's okay. Nothing is wrong today, nothing is off today.

You wish, at least. Because in the back of your mind, you know something is wrong when John doesn't answer your calls.

You head downstairs, and the heavy smell in the house should trigger a warning for you, but it does not. The kitchen is empty, dark, dusty. This doesn't make sense. It was not like this yesterday, and somehow, you doubt it could have collected this much dust in one night. Nothing is right, you realize.

Everything is wrong, everything is messed up, out of order. Things shouldn't be this way... so why are they like this...?

You don't know why, and it bothers you...