You're Everything I Need

I found his number on Spencer’s dresser. I stared at it, considering calling him. I needed to talk to him. I had to ask him. But I knew that Ryan didn’t want me to call him. He was still in the hospital (that’s where the number called) and didn’t need stress.

But all I could do was stare at it. I didn’t do anything else but just stare at it, written neatly on that small rectangle of paper, neatly torn from a notebook or something. I wondered who had written it down.

Spencer came into the room at some point and sighed when he saw that I was still sitting there, just staring. I don’t think he realized what I was staring at.

An hour later, and the number was in my hand. I was still staring at it. It was so simple, yet complicated at the same time. It would be so easy to just call Ryan. But Ryan didn’t want anything to do with me.

I sighed and turned around, staring at the phone sitting on Spencer’s nightstand. I only had one question that I knew I had to ask Ryan. I picked up the phone, staring intently at the paper. There was no need to stare at the number as I dialed—I had memorized it already.

I held the phone up to my ear and listened to it ring. Once. Twice. Three times. And then it was picked up.

“Hello?” Ryan said. His voice sounded louder, more confident, than it had the day he had woken up. He was regaining strength. “Hello?” he said again. I shut my eyes tightly.

“Do you still love me?” I said quietly. It was silent on the other end. I could hear Ryan breathing, slightly heavier than he had a moment ago.

“Brendon?” Ryan said after a moment, his voice sounding strained.

“Yes,” I whispered. It was silent for a moment before I heard a click followed closely by the dial tone. I held the phone to my ear, listening to the sound.

So that was it. That was my answer. I didn’t cry though. I didn’t think I could. I just didn’t have it in me anymore.

I pulled the phone away from my ear, turning it off before placing it back on the receiver.

I still held the number in my hand, and I closed my hand into a fist, crumpling the small piece of paper. I reopened my hand and let it fall to the floor. I looked down, staring at it, before lying down on my mattress. Laying there was all I could do—all I wanted to do. I didn’t want to sleep because then I’d dream of Ryan. Though even when I was week, Ryan was all I could think of. There was no escaping him. I never thought that I’d want to forget about Ryan, but right now it was what I wanted most.

I almost wished that I had never met Ryan. That Ryan had not moved next door to me. Or at least that I had not taken such an interest in him. I should have left Ryan alone when he had made it clear that he didn’t want anything to do with me.

Then a thought occurred to me. This was just like the beginning. Right now, Ryan wanted nothing to do with me. Was I really going to let that come between us? I didn’t let it before.

And I now felt something new inside of me. Something I hadn’t felt since Ryan had woken up.

Hope.