All things considered, he’s doing really well. He’s feeling productive again, he’s sleeping better. He taught himself to make an omelette the other day. This is an upward slope, he thinks. There’re places to go.
And then, just before bed, tumbling through links, he hears “Falling Slowly,” and he thinks of the movie which makes him think of that winter which makes him think of her. Something slow and strong and cold crawls across his chest and wraps around his heart, and he can’t breathe.
He shuts the song off halfway through. He can’t listen. Her shadow fills the room.