I flailed my arm around to reach my phone and turn the alarm off, before opening my eyes and thinking I would probably need cellotape to keep them open after a dream like that. Even after standing up and forcing my body to stay awake, I still desperately wanted to get back into bed. To be with him again.

Only after a walk to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face in desperate hope of staying awake did I remember to look at the phone to check the day. Friday morning. Of course I would have to go to work after all of that. Two days left until my date.

I went to have a shower, but something inside me resisted it. I’d already done it in the dream, and it had had such a satisfying conclusion that I just knew today wouldn’t, and I did not want it one bit. I didn’t want other people. I just wanted Aaron. I wanted him, and I wanted his body. Nothing else would suffice.

“Okay, brain, what the fuck?” I said to myself.

The shower took me longer than I’d hoped, and it left me little time for breakfast. Even after being as fast as I could and scoffing my coffee so fast that I wanted to puke, I was still running late, and I immediately began thinking up excuses for my belated arrival.

My earbuds did their job on the walk to the train station, mostly blocking outside noise out, but on the train, it was hopeless. My early hours usually meant that I would get a half-empty train on the way to work. Not today. The morning rush hour was in full swing, and the train was full. To make matters worse, it was a Friday, so everyone was chattier than usual.

And I felt them again. Stronger than before, all of their conflicting emotions, all of their discussions that carried through the body of the train. They all talked to someone else, but they might as well have been talking to me. I tried listening, but it was too much. Unable to block them out, I grabbed the first empty seat and curled up, trying to somehow become one with the noise.

Tattered and exhausted, I found my way to the City, and after storming out of the underground, I breathed the morning air in its fullest. Somehow, somewhere, there had to be a pattern to all of this. There had to be a pattern to all of their emotions meshing together. And if I could find the pattern, commuting would be easier. I could listen with them, not for them.

My stream of happiness was broken by a shove in the back from someone who decided they really couldn’t go around me. After an apology, I remembered that I was running late. Barging my way into the office, I found absolutely zero commotion. No-one seemed to even notice that I had come in both late and agitated.

I sat myself down at my desk, and only then did the boss arrive. “Jordan, what was that? Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “Nightmares, you know how it is.”

“Well, I don’t, really. I haven’t had nightmares in a long time,” he said.

“Lucky you,” I said. “It’s hell.”

“Oh, yes, I can imagine. Just maybe try not to be aggressive towards everyone else when your own life affects you, can you do that?” he said.

“I can try, boss,” I said.

“It won’t do. Either you do it,” he said, “or I can send you home for a bit of unpaid leave. How’s that?”

“I understand,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. You’ll know what to do shortly,” he said and left without any further word.

Checking my email, all that was to do today was some number crunching. Good, I thought. That was easy enough to automate away. However, after I’d found my way into it, I struggled to keep track of what I was doing. I started thinking out loud just to keep myself awake, when Claire came into the office.

“Coffee?” she said.

“Please,” I said. “I’m a wreck.”

“I can tell. Come on, time for a break,” she said, and I nodded along, with barely any control of my movement.

“Wow, you’re more tired than I thought,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nightmares,” I said. “That’s all.”

“Sure, nightmares. Was he that bad?” she said.

I sighed. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“Are you ever?” she said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, still struggling to think.

“When’s the last time you’ve been happy? And I don’t mean cheerful. I mean genuinely happy. As in, you’re perfectly fine with the way your life is going kind of happy,” she rambled.

“Listen here,” I said, drawing breath, “you don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what it’s like to be a chronical patient. You don’t know what it’s like to keep overthinking every move your body makes and thinking whether that’s it for you. You don’t know what it’s like to die. Because I know. I’ve done it. Twice.”

“Really, what’s it like?” she joked.

“Is this honestly the question you’re asking me right now? You don’t know the first thing about how I feel. What it’s like to always be only part-human. I can never have a life, Claire,” I shouted. “I can never be happy.”

“What’s going on here?” the boss said as he came into the office kitchen.

“She’s nuts,” Claire said, and pointed at me.

“Again? I told you not to be aggressive, Jordan, and you go on and shout at Claire? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he said, raising his voice with each word.

“No, sir, I don’t,” I said. “As I said, I haven’t had any form of sleep, and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.”

“You’ve been doing that for months, Jordan, ever since you last came back from your last operation. I’ve been nice enough to employ you, but my good will doesn’t extend forever, and I expect it to be repaid. Get lost, and I don’t want to see you until Monday. We’ll discuss how to go on from here then,” he shouted. I just kept myself planted on the ground, doing my best not to break his nose.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”