This Time

He could hear the faint sound of his alarm blaring from his dream state. He fought to keep himself wrapped up in the illusion that was his present. He knew that there was nothing worth waking up to. There, in his dreams were all he needed. There wasn't a question that he didn't have the answer to. If a problem presented itself, he had the solution. In his dreams, he was in control. There was nothing that he couldn't do or anything he couldn't overcome.

But, to wake up meant accepting the reality that the opposite held true. He didn't have the answers or any solutions. He felt there was no one to turn to in his darkest moments and no one to champion his triumphs, no matter how small they seemed. To him, they were great feats and those small feats would make the difference in the constant battle he found himself in.

The sound of the alarm rang louder and louder until it reached max and he was unable to stop it. He would wake soon and a choice would need to be made. To silence the alarm and retreat into the safety of his covers, or to take the day head on.

He woke and silenced the alarm at once reaching an arm out from the covers. The clock read seven from the small opening he made in the blanket to peer out of. He groaned, threw the covers from himself, sat up on the bed, and sighed deeply.

'You got this. You got this. You got this.' He repeated to himself assuredly.

What more was there for him to cling to, save for the small tokens of encouragement he could offer himself? Though those words were seldom, only spoken when he built up enough of a positive outlook to offer himself something good. It's what he needed, longed for, something good. His world was in turmoil and he needed nothing else but something good.

'Today's the day. I got this.' He thought to himself as he pushed up from the bed and slid into his slippers.

Today would be better than the last. He was sure of it. He strolled silently on the carpet, around his bed, to the window.

'You got this.' he said to himself once more as he took a deep breath in and drew back the curtains.

Gloomy. Sullen. Depressing. Three words that he used to describe the day that lay hidden behind the curtains. There wasn't a thought that didn't cross his mind. He wrestled back and forth with himself, should he go or just lay here in bed? The day only amplified the feelings he had been feeling on the inside. Now everything seemed worse than it had before and it became too much to handle.

His decision had been made.

He dragged his feet back over to the bed, kicked off his slippers, threw himself back down onto the bed, and then pulled the covers back over himself. At least he tried. One minute's effort was better than nothing.

+++++++++REMARKS++++++++++

This story is an entry into the Just a Minute challenge.

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