21 Sleepless Nights
Chandler pulled his sleeves down over his hands further, his blood-drained fingers stiff with coldness. Debating whether to find yet another blanket, but realising that meant leaving the three he already had piled around him, he gave a breathy sigh. Having graduated from college just a few short months ago, he thought the endless nights spent lying awake were behind him. He wouldn't need to worry about finding a job, not with his schooling. He'd be able to find a place to live and, in the hopefully not-too-distant future, have a family he'd be able to provide for.
He never expected to be lying awake in a dingy, small bedsit, getting paid less than minimum wage to sit alone and file paper in a dreary office basement.
His tired eyes glanced across at his bedside clock, squinting as he tried to read the face in the dark. Just about making out the little hand nearing the three, he winced knowing he'd have to be at work in just five hours. He watched for a little longer, not knowing if time had stopped or if he was just in a dreary state of confusion.
He knew Ross wouldn't be awake now. He'd be lying beside Carol, curled around the covers in their small yet quaint apartment. They'd be warm and well-fed, and able to have somewhat of a lie-in working their 9-to-5 jobs, putting their degrees to good use.
They wouldn't be lonely like Chandler.
He wouldn't have minded so much not being able to afford heating – or hell, a proper place to live - if he could curl up beside someone every night, teasing them with his cold feet after having to stand on the cold bathroom tiles. He wouldn't have minded sharing a bathroom with everyone in the building, not when one of them would be the girl he'd share everything with anyway. He wouldn't need to lie awake stressing over when his life would get better, as all the hardships would be worth it just to be with his girl. Most of all, he wouldn't be alone.
He tried to think about the last time he had human contact with someone other than the photocopier guy at work. He hadn't seen Ross in weeks. He was too ashamed to visit his mother, not being the successful author she was. His dad would understand, but they'd fallen out of contact when his college friends found out exactly who he was. Tired of the homophobic slurs, and the lack of a backbone, he simply cut off all ties with him and began telling everyone he didn't have a dad.
Had his face not been so ice-cold, he probably would have shed a tear.
He thought about his future children, the imaginary twin figures who'd been keeping him going throughout the long nights. It sickened him to the stomach and broke his heart to think about them ever wishing they didn't know him. Unsuccessful, weak and depressed, he knew all the love in the world couldn't make up for what he wouldn't be able to give to them right now.
Ignoring the screams his sore eyes gave him, he bit the bullet and swung himself out of bed, feeling the icy blast hit him square in the chest. Bearing his teeth, he rolled up his sleeves enough to reach for the newspaper lying on his desk. Despite being alone – or rather, too shy to ask for help from those busy with their own lives – he knew he could still help himself. Working by the moon's bright light through the gap in the damp curtains, he began pushing forward.
"First, n-need to find a r-room to let wi-with heating," he chattered to himself, circling phone numbers for roommates and job interviews. He looked up towards the sky freckled with stars and smiled.
Things always look so much better in the morning.