I open my eyes, and roll over to the side, and find a strange warmth next to me. Hazily, I squint my eyes to find the figure of a woman next to me in my bed. I also hear various sounds of machinery around what I previously thought was my room. For some reason, I still feel at home. The woman rolls over and says to me, “good morning, love.” She gives me a heartfelt smile. Still, nothing seems out of the ordinary to me. I say good morning back to her and give a faint, genuine, half smile. I cautiously rise from my eerily cozy bed and make my way to my mirror. I find myself looking back into a well aged version of myself. I hear the strange machinery sounds again. The house no longer makes its usual creaking that holds its age. It now contains silent floors. I continue my exploration of this strange version of my house and make my way to the kitchen. It’s newly filled with self cleaning and self storing machines. As I continue, everything seems so natural. The house still feels very lived in and the same as it always has to me. I continue around the house and make my to the living room. It still has that familiar scent to it. As I walk deeper into the room, the air thickens. The room has an atmosphere of hospitality. I sit on the couch and take in my surroundings. This version of my house is so different. Everything has been changed, renovated. Yet, to me, it still feels like the same house I moved into with my then girlfriend. I continue to look around the room. I can now remember almost everything that has happened in here, yet there’s this unsettling feeling. In my time gone, I feel so much time lost. Time lost for memories to be made with my family. Time lost, or rather, wasted in the war. I haven’t even been apart of these new changes, the new technologies, the new life events, anything. I’ve just been gone.
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