Morning

This isn’t the first time I have woken up here. Nor is it the first time I have woken up here sober. I have woken up in this position, in this room, countless times. In a number of different beds (invariably, they all get broken in the end). A number of states of arousal. With a number of people laying next to me. A number of drugs hovering nearby waiting to be used or waiting to be grimaced at.

Today is one of the more pleasant awakenings. No embarrassing night or weekend to play out in my head, to try desperately to remember (or forget). I can’t hear anybody still chatting away in the living room, which is no surprise as I know we all said a polite goodnight at around 10pm. I don’t have a sinking ‘what do I do now’ feeling swirling around my head or my tummy.

Plus I’m hungry. That in itself is a unique feeling.

Im staring around at what i know is going to be the baby’s room. The due date is imminent. Any day now my life as I know it will truly change. I don’t know how this change will pan out. All I know for sure is how knowing the change is coming has not made it any easier to deal with.

It’s not even my fucking baby.

8 months ago I was sat in this very space on a rickety bed that was falling apart. A familiar state surrounded me. A plate of powder on the floor. Two glasses that had been turned into Ash trays sitting on a windowsill that had years of grime and powder dusting the surface. A pile of dirty tissues in the corner that wasn’t too clean in the first place. I wasn’t alone. Cc was sat with me. It had been a long week of nothingness. And I’d needed to come down so I could go to sleep and then drive home. We were shivering and jittering playing battleships on our phones.

5 months ago I woke with him next to me. We had been on a 3 days and 2 nights bender. Sobering up the night before enough to try and munch on takeaway pizza we had ordered and left on the side the first night. Having started the festivities at S’s, he needed a lift home. I was glad to oblige on my way out of town. The morning had seemed quick that day as we cleared the room, washed the dishes and gave hugs to people before disappearing just before 8am. Cc had been down. She couldn’t do anything she wanted to. Us being there had just reminded her of that.

Today Cc is sat ready to pop in a clean flat that’s had all the walls and floors washed. The window sill next to me is not only clean but freshly painted. The bedding doesn’t reek of years of being washed then dried in a crack house. And I’ve woken up in fresh bed linen, having had a shower last night.

Not only that, I can see the sky for all it’s beauty. The blue is bright and welcoming with sunshine streaming across it now. The grass below is pale green with crispy morning frost covering it.

The mornings really enhance the change in me. Being able to see in colour again is a real achievement. Maybe this baby is a blessing in disguise. Maybe we all need this baby. Maybe we all need to grow up.