175. Seven years of the same alarm.
Each time it hits me differently.
My boyfriend has had the same alarm ringtone since the day he bought his phone seven years ago. He’s the type of person who doesn’t change his WhatsApp profile picture in five years and hasn’t even gone through his phone’s settings to change anything—The factory default is more than enough. I find this curious because I feel the need to change things often: My profile picture, my alarm ringtone, my nightstand, my bookcases, the kitchen cupboards… Putting things in new places makes me feel like I’ve refreshed the energy and have something new in my hands to admire.
He, on the other hand, has probably never thought about changing his alarm’s ring tone. What’s the point? I can imagine him saying. And to a certain degree he’s right. What is the point? The reason I change my alarm’s ringtone is because I hate hearing it. I’m not a morning person, and waking up with a sudden jolt from a loud noise is what I’d call my worst nightmare, but in this case it’s even worse because instead of happening in the middle of the night, it’s what wakes me up and kickstarts my day.
My boyfriend and I don’t use our phones as alarm clocks anymore. You know, all of that “don’t sleep in the same room as your phone” kind of thing. However, the main reason we no longer set an alarm is because we don’t need one. We’re so used to waking up at the same time that we no longer need a machine screaming at us in piano keys to wake up and start the day. That being said, sometimes we like to indulge in our Spanish siestas, and when I say “we”, I really mean “he”.
C, my boyfriend who works long hours in the evening, sometimes has a nap to recharge his batteries and sets an alarm to wake himself up. I read on the sofa while he has a kip, and even though I’m not asleep, I’m still startled when the alarm goes off. Not by the volume or the surprise, but by the sound.
I’ve been hearing this same sound for the past seven years and it’s one of the most nostalgic triggers present in my life. I hear it and memories come flooding into my mind within seconds. This universal android phone sound that must wake so many people up every morning feels intimate and extremely personal. It feels like a part of our relationship.
C opens his eyes and slowly begins to turn over to silence the alarm while I’m transported back to San Sebastián. We went on a romantic day trip many years ago and it rained cats and dogs. Mamá was angry at us because we didn’t obey her orders to stay at home to take Yaya to the doctor and left Alex in charge. We walked around a very wet San Sebastián all day under the same umbrella, being forced to huddle together, which is all I remember from this rainy, romantic, day trip—The universe forcing us into a constant embrace as we discovered a new city together wearing hoodies and caps.
He’s still turning over in slow motion to grab his phone and I’m hit with another flashback. This time it’s pitch black outside, it must be around five a.m. and I’m being told to get into the shower because we need to leave. C and I had planned to arrive in La Rioja by lunchtime and we need to get going. I’m not an early person and I’m in a relationship with someone that thinks that the early bird gets the worm. Why set off at nine when you can set off at five in the morning and “miss the traffic”? I slept until Madrid so I don’t know if there was any traffic.
I look at him and he’s on his side now, preparing to move his arm to grab the phone. It’s pitch black again and we’re in Madrid. We’re waking up in someone else’s bed, Lala’s. It’s freezing. She let us stay in her flat while she was away because I have a civil service exam (una oposcición) at seven a.m. at one of Madrid’s universities. I’ve been studying for months and I’m petrified. I know all of the theory and luckily have a good chance at the English exam which will help me get through to the next round. C offers me a banana and I turn it down because I feel sick. My stomach is a ball of nerves and I’m concentrating on getting dressed and not throwing up. I’ve never done anything like this before, it’s winter in Madrid, and I’m about to take one of the most important exams of my life, which I passed. The sun came out as we drove home in our tiny car listening to a Sam Smith CD singing at the top of our lungs.
The alarm is still ringing but he’s reaching to grab it now. I’ve gone back to university. We’re waking up from our afternoon nap in our dorm. We’re both lying on my single bed that we moved next to the window to feel the sun on our skin. The window is tiny but it does the trick. We both feel less sad when we’re in the sun, so this was a strategic move. We ate pasta bolognese for lunch, just like most days, and had our daily forty five minute siesta together before we each separate into our individual rooms to study. I don’t know what upsets me more, the fact that I have to study or the fact that he’s going to cross the hall and disappear for the next four and a half hours. Probably the latter but I can’t tell him that, it wouldn’t be cool of me. The early stages of teenage relationships are all about acting cool, or so I’ve been told. It feels like a lifetime ago, I guess in part it was.
He finally grabs the alarm and turns it off. I look at him and smile. He always wakes up with a smile and puffy eyes asking me if he sleep at all, knowing full well that he’s been out like a light for almost an hour. He dreams so deep that he never knows if he actually fell asleep or not. I smile and tell him he was snoring, and while he slowly comes to his senses, I think about how this one sound holds so many of our shared memories and no matter how much I hate alarms, I take note to ask him to never change his.
this is so beautifully written
🩷