ALEX'S POINT OF VIEW . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I wake up with the same headache and heartache, and manage to drag myself out of bed and do my morning ritual, but this time without looking in the mirror, and shower with my eyes closed while trying not to remember who and how gave the marks that I love and hate that I have. Not that it helped a lot, but a tiny bit. And honestly, now I’d take everything. The road to work was depressing. The horns can be heard from every side, annoyed people that curse because the traffic is heavy as if it were the fault of the other traffic participants. And maybe it is. My fault at least. It's always my fault. Even knowing that he won't be there, I'm still nervous as I get in the elevator, and even knowing that his desk is empty, as

