Cecil had taken to sleeping sprawled out on the bed so that it would feel less lonely. It hurt less to wake up with his neck sore than to wake up facing an empty pillow and a perfectly made right half of the bed. He mumbled and shoved his glasses onto his face. He blinked the world into focus and checked for trans-dimensional portals on the floor before walking to the kitchen.
He mumbled a silent thanks to the Faceless Old Woman for having had already made coffee. He poured a fair amount into his NVCR mug and made himself a bowl of cereal. With only one person in the house there was no need to make a big breakfast and he had taken to eating smaller and nastier meals. Cecil grabbed his hasty breakfast and sat at the table: facing the empty seat across from him. The seat had been empty for nearly a year now. He was beginning to wonder if it would ever be used again. He made sure to put out food for Koshek and went to get dressed.
Without his beloved Carlos around he had slipped back into looking like a five year old picking out his own clothes. In typical Cecil fashion he ended up dressed in a white dress shirt, a bow tie, and his fuzzy purple pants: his typical work clothes. With nothing to distract him he headed for work early; passing all of the turned-down picture frames that made his heart hurt. He slipped out the door silently and walked to the radio station.
It was the show as usual. Just another day of strange happenings in the strange town. Former mayor Pamela Winchel had a press conference, Steve Carlsberg was being annoying, and the man in the tan jacket with a deerskin suitcase did... Something. Nobody could remember exactly what it was. Also a dozen people were transported to another dimension. Just a typical day in Night Vale.
He trudged home after the show; sympathetic glances cast his way by Intern Maureen. They slid off him like water off a duck's back and he just made his way back to his little house; passing by Carlos' lab on his way. Cecil decided against going inside and just kept walking. Almost right after he stepped in the door his phone rang.
Of course it was Carlos. Who else would it have been? It was just like every other night... Half an hour of goings on in the desert other world. Promises of seeing him soon. Cecil remembered the times of "it'll just be another week." That was ten months ago. He just listened, did his mumblings of, "that's neat," and did his yawning. He'd said months ago that he could see Cecil. Couldn't he see how miserable he was? Couldn't he see how much he was hurting?
After the exchange of half-hearted "I love you" Cecil hung up and got ready for bed; not even changing into Carlos' shirts to sleep in anymore. He changed into his own pajamas, took off his glasses, and got in bed: sprawled out across the queen-sized mattress. He didn't even cry anymore. He just fell asleep; almost completely numb.
When Cecil woke up, the day was no different from the last.