Maybe soon, but not yet

The sun hasn't risen, maybe soon, but not yet. 
It is just like any ordinary morning, with me sitting in silence, staring out of my window in the confinements of my safe heaven. The light from the street lamps were the only steady source of light, casting long ominmous shadows, giving a threathening feeling to a another brand new day. Lights of the houses in the distance flicker on and off, as I watch the neighbours start preparing for the start of their new day.

I should get up from my spot and start my day too. 
Maybe soon, but not yet.
I'm not ready to start a new day. 

I reached out for my glass of water, only to realise it is long gone and finished. The emptiness of the glass was alarming, it wasn't even half full or half empty, it was just...empty. I tipped the glass back, relishing the last drop of water present.

The water I drank did not taste as bad as it did yesterday. Maybe, it tasted even better than it did yesterday or even the few minutes before. Maybe it was indeed the final minutes of my alone time and my own room wanting to keep me close. They were luring me into staying inside and not leave. I never assumed that it was actually my own imagination that was begging me to walk straight back to bed and never come out again.

It was a comforting, this devouring pregnant silence. It was always like that underneath my roof. There wasn't any noise, not even the slightest whisper. I could break it when I wanted to.  It made me feel like I am in control. 

This mighty feeling left me feeling rather numb.

What is going to be different between this year and last?

What is going to change between this month and last?

What is going to happen tomorrow that is different from today?

Maybe I should rephrase my question.

What am I going to do to make things different?

I should make decisions, maybe soon, but not yet.