Those Worse Off Than You

The week went by quickly. Days passed by. Pictures were taken: memories preserved. They were printed and stored in a photo album I had bought in the gift shop downstairs. And now, was late Sunday night. The last Sunday night I would spend with me 2 favourite people in the world, for a long time.

The room was filled with nothing but irritating humid air & awkward silence as we all sat cross-legged on the bed, looking at our hands. We had nothing to say- anything that was to be said would be said that the last moment it could be said at, unless it was unimportant, in which case, would have been previously said.

"Listen," I started, trying to get something straight. "This all kinda sucks, but let's just try and make the best of it.I'll come visit when I can, and the minute I'm old enough to leave there on my own, I'm gone- so don't think this is some kinmd of permanent situation. It's just... long term. My life was pretty much shit, you guys know that. You two made everything a little bit better, and if this all is supposed to fix the rest of it, then maybe it's for the better."

I looked up and watched as they both did nothing but nod.

The night was quiet and peaceful, and as quiet as it was, I enjoyed the company. It wasn't until late in the night that we started to feel drowsy and we all sprawled across the small bed in a pile, the body heat helping no amount with the fact of the heat. We whispered to eachother useless conversation and inside jokes before the last of us fell asleep: me.

I laid in the dark with not only the heat on my mind. Fear. Regret. Sadness. Hope. Worry. Anxiety. Thankfulness. Excitement.