A letter from August 6th, 2019: Anymore

It's weird sharing a bed with a stranger. I pretend I'm still asleep when she wakes up in the morning. I check my phone while she's in the shower then go back to pretending to sleep when she's done. She get's dressed and prepares for work. The moment she's out the bedroom, I bolt for the shower. It's liberating to be alone in my room. I can walk around naked or in my underwear. Call in sick for work and lie in bed all day. Netflix and chill, literally. At night, I wish for her not to come home so I can have the bed all to myself. When she comes home while I'm still awake, I prefer not to stay in the bedroom. Then I sneak in when she' fast asleep. I love it the most when she arrives and I'm sleeping on her side of the bed. At least I'm not the only who's awkward here and doesn't know what to do with the other person. Then in the morning, same routine. Every single ******* day. It's becoming exhausting. We don't talk really. Because there's nothing to talk about. She doesn't know me. I don't know her. Anymore.