QUARANTINE

Part 1

                                                                                     Beginning

6 AM

The alarm blows up my ears, and there I am, laying down on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I grab my phone and solve the puzzle my alarm app requires me to solve to make sure I have indeed woken up, just like my mom. I check on my messages, nothing.

The news on the other hand are too many, the virus is spreading through Asia, and apparently there's nothing we can do to stop it, it is like a certain apocalypse that will reach us all on time.

I get out of bed, thinking about the night before, although blurred it is very clear to me that from that moment on I was going to be alone, probably forever, since I couldn't keep any relationship alive, I always had, after sometime, to stab my relationships repeatedly in the heart until the died.

I had to walk slowly to the kitchen since my head was pounding intensely, and in those moments is when your brain tries to talk you into making the decision of stop drinking, and so you do, momentarily, of course. Because in the end it is your regretful brain the same that incites you to drink again, to think that there's nothing else but that moment, that now, but reality is there's a lot of "nows" and in everyone of them you'll manage to screw up. Can't blame your brain though, it's drunk.

I grab the coffee filters and fit them nicely on the machine, while I go to reach for the coffee I grab a bottle of water and chug it down to let my body know that it is a new day and we must go on. I put 5 scoops of coffee into the filter, pour some water and turn on the machine. I wait.

With the growling sound and aromatic smell of the coffee machine working, I walk into the leaving room and turn on the TV,

-The first cases appear on Italy, Spain and 5 other European countries, governments aren't doing much at the time, but the said cases are under control.

I turn it off.

It's been weeks since all I hear about is the virus, even though it hasn't reached us here, I can help but to think about what's to come, is this the end? What is an end and what is a beginning, aren't they the same thing? And if so, what does that mean for me?

The coffee making growl ceases, I grab a cup from the dish washer and pour some.

Slowly drinking it, I watch the clock on the wall, 6.30am, and I wonder why is it that when I drink I sleep less, for an instant I plunge down into my thoughts only to be waken up by a notification sound on my phone.

I gaze down to it.

-Joshep: I'm downstairs.

With a smirk on my face I write

-I'll be right down.

I rush myself into the shower, and within 10 minutes I'm ready to go.

I go down the stairs and see him there, my old friend, my only stable relationship throughout the years.

- What happened last night? He asks

- Nothing, just you know, the inevitable.

- Oh, I see... want to talk about it?

- No.

- Alright then, let's get some breakfast.

I've always admired that about friends, they have no rush to know things, they are patient enough to wait for you to get drunk and talk about it, or just breakdown and talk about.