Frozen in the Darkest Hour of the Night

When Does a Recurring Daydeam Become Real?

Upon regaining consciousness, I was disoriented, trying to piece together my surroundings. The room was dimly lit and confined, making it difficult to discern my location or the time of day. I became aware of the chill as I lay on the cold tile floor and noticed my nudity. Struggling to lift my head, I realized I was in a bathroom, but the details of how I arrived there and which bathroom I was in eluded me.

The dry sensation in my mouth was like the parched breath of a desert breeze. I felt the urge to call out the names of my wife and sons, hoping they would assist me in getting to my feet. Thoughts of the words took shape in my mind, but despite my sincere efforts to speak loud enough for them to hear, no sound escaped my lips. It was as if the letters were silently materializing and drifting into the room, resembling ethereal Scrabble tiles.

Instinctively, I raised my left arm to look at my watch, but my wrist was bare. My back spasmed as I realized that if I had an Apple Watch, it would be on the charger on the kitchen counter of my apartment where I lived alone. Realizing no one was on the other side of the bathroom door disheartened me, but I wished I could open it and get my Apple Watch to ask for help. Whom would I call?

I struggled to hoist myself up from the cool, smooth, tiled floor, using my elbows for support. My wife had always teased me about my nonexistent butt. She wasn’t entirely wrong, but now it feels like the small size hindered my ability to lift myself off the floor. My buttocks, I am sure, are frozen to the tiles. It felt like an eternity before I raised just a few inches. My legs attempted to move, but they had fallen into REM sleep, unable to provide the needed support. Crawling on all fours, I slowly dragged myself towards the right-hand door. As I approached, I realized it didn’t lead to the exit; instead, it opened to the space where the furnace and water heater were in the bathroom of Apartment 3B.

Sliding on my knees, I made it to the other door. Now, I saw my Apple Watch and iPhone in the charging station. I crossed the short distance and grabbed both devices, swaying more than standing. I held onto the bedroom door frame and then the nightstand as I crawled into bed without pulling back the sheets.

Was it real or just a dream? The memory felt vivid as if I had lived it rather than imagined it. As my alarm chimed at 5:30, I sluggishly rose from my bed, filled with uncertainty but resolved to begin my morning routine. It was a sad, overcast day, the air thick with moisture and the sky shrouded in darkness. Despite the gloomy atmosphere, I pressed on, one deliberate step at a time. I aimed to close all my activity rings and complete a demanding five-mile walk while contemplating how many more days I could sustain this routine.

After walking daily for 1213 days, I have been fortunate to enjoy good health and strength, allowing me to engage in walks and indulge in reading, writing, and volunteer work. While survival is crucial, I’ve realized that simply existing isn’t sufficient. I’ve yearned for the difficulties I face to fade away and have eagerly awaited the day when I can confidently step into the future as the sun rises, accompanied by someone to share the moment with. However, despite this desire, I have accepted that I will always live alone. There may come a time when even a short walk to the bathroom becomes a challenging task. Nevertheless, new opportunities will present themselves, and I will wholeheartedly embrace them.