I let friends keep me out until 3, now I’m awake, and they’re sleeping. Lying in bed, trying not to stir to rouse them, the world feels most silent, but there are birds pecking at the window. It’s the loneliest time: when you alone are in a state of consciousness, your consciousness a world of one, and all the fellows of your life are together, without you, in a most peaceful state.
This paradigm drives my adult relationships: each morning, someone plays the roused one, and someone plays the slumbering one. There’s nothing lonelier than waking up in a world of one, yet someone must wake up in a world of one.