The Morning After

I awoke to find him next to me, arm wrapped around like he used to do. It brought back a sense of nostalgia. Quickly I look at the clock; 8:00am. Perfect timing. I move his arm, get up and stretch and make the morning coffee that I know he would like. As cold as the floor is, as well as the winter air, I make my way to the kitchen; and when done go back to the comfort of my warm bed. There I sleep for a few more minutes.

I realise at that moment, just as I had the night before, that this is the first time he's seen my apartment since we broke up. He had been over once before, for a weekend to look after me while I was sick, but even then I lived alone and didn't have much. Now, with my roommate in the next room, the ex can see how much of a home it finally looks like. I remember how impressed he was the minute the front door opened, and how wide eyed he got upon entering the livingroom (of course, a 51' inch widescreen tv would do that). "Nice, nice" he repeated over and over again. And when seeing something he liked, it was always "I love that." And being the smart ass that he is, upon seeing the microwave, he commented "moving up in the world, ain't we?" He opened the fridge and still the smart ass, commented "... still empty." All I could do was smile.

We laughed a bit at Family Guy, has a smoke together, and ended up in bed. It was a good night, reminding me of who he was (and always has been), and who I was before everything that happened happened. And now, here we were, friends again.

I awoke again, still cold from the winter mornings air, and got up and showered and got ready for work. All the while he had his coffee and was making me a cup.

As I was tying my shoes at the front door, the roommate awoke and walked out of his room. And upon seeing my ex had said "Hey CJ."

... My ex's name isn't CJ.