You must first understand that this, this is not it.

He had awoken, slightly haunted by the thought of her, frightened. STAY, stay, no, stay, stay, stay, stay, STAY, he thought as he sluggishly arose from his disarranged bed. Nonetheless, subconsciously asking himself to stay-in-bed was a trivial request of which his addiction to nicotine thought laughable. He sheepishly shuffled to the bedroom door, gently opened it and exited as he simultaneously shut it. As he turned right to enter the adjacent bathroom door, he remembered; my phone. There; he stood, surrounded by doors. He then decided upon re-entering his bedroom to retrieve his phone. Upon re-entry, there; she stood, behind the opened bedroom door. He turned his head, glared at the wall, maneuvered his left hand slightly to the left and opened the top right drawer of an aged oak desk. After having retrieved his phone, his laptop and two white prescription-pills, he again exited the bedroom. She. Despite his utmost craving to materialize the woman who had just stood beside him, there he was. He leaned forward as he softly placed his head upon the closed door. Coffee. COFFEE, he thought.

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