
Somehow the soft knock at my bedroom door wakes me up quicker than the melodic tone of my 8 a.m. phone alarm.
Elijah, who woke up in the bedroom next to mine two minutes prior to knocking, steps through the door.
He grabs me a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, helps me sit up in my chair, and puts my glasses on. He’s been with me for five years. The morning routine comes as natural as waking up.