You're sleeping with your body tucked under a warm blanket. The sun is shining through the nearest window. Wake up. Open your eyes slowly, savoring the moment. Breathe deep and exhale after a few seconds. Let the sun warm you and enjoy the feeling of safety that rushes through your body. You know you have to get up, but somehow you can't manage to move. You know that if you try harder, you will eventually get up. But you don't. Maybe later...

You close your eyes again and shift, tugging on the soft blanket. Think about the sun, that huge fire ball. Think about space; about Earth. Think about life. Your life. Think about all your mistakes. Take a deep breath and swear to fix them. Ignore the small voice that shouts into your head: How? You'll figure out how. You have to.

Get up. It's late. You throw the blanket off your bed and you grudgingly get up. You move, staggering, towards the bathroom. Wash your face. Go to the kitchen. It's a mess. Glasses lay shattered on the floor. As you sweep, you think of the night before. Images of you and your...whatever he was, flash in your head. You fought with him. You recall that he wanted you to go out with him. And you said no...again. Then everything started changing rapidly. One moment he was begging you to think about it again, and another he was storming out of the room, leaving you alone, wondering where you went wrong.

You keep on sweeping, trying to erase your memories. No such luck. While you're drinking your coffee, you think bitterly:This is the end. Right then, something falls down, in front of you. You frown as you pick it up. It's a drawing from your five-year old cousin, Elisabeth. You examine the big, red heart and a single tear falls on your cheek when you read the message that Elisabeth wrote: I love you.

You hastily wipe the tear and sit on a tattered chair. As you whisper incoherent sounds, you suddenly understand. Now's the perfect time to start fixing your mistakes. You grab your keys and race down the street, barefoot. Finally, you stop before his front door. Din-dawwwn!

He opens the door. He looks exhausted. He has black circles under his eyes and he's still wearing the clothes he was wearing the night before.

But you're not affected. You look at him and smile brightly. And when he smiles back, you know that this is not the end ; in fact, it is only the beggining...