I Was Just Looking For A Way Out...

“You were in there awhile.” He says as I step out of the bathroom, like so many times when I was accusing my dad of making the room a quarantine zone, only serious. I consider a joke about beans for lunch, but instead I just walk over and sit on the bed in silence.

“Eh, I’m slow, whatever. What’s up?” I ask, putting my hands on the bed behind me to lean back.

“You know, same as yesterday, and the day before, nothing too exciting in a mental hospital. Well except for you coming in of course.” He says and smiles. I can’t tell if he’s saying I’m boring enough not to have changed anything, or exciting…

“Yea, well I guess my schedule for the weeks looking a lot clearer” I say and smile back, “Not that it’s such a bad thing… or that it was full in the first place…” the smile fades that fast… I look down. In disgust more then anything else.

“Oh yea, what are you here for?” He asks with a sincere look in his eye. I nervously pull the sleeves of my flannel down into my hands and fidget with the buttons.

“Oh, you know, depression and stuff… uhh, what about you?” I ask, not unhappy to shift attention on to someone else.

“Pretty much the same thing… they found a notebook I had with a lot of really depressing shit in it… Then they shipped me off here.” He looks down a little too, and his smile, while still there, becomes less then happy.

“Hah… so I’m not the only one with one of those.” I say and look up at him. He’s so…. I don’t want to say perfect, but it’s close enough. Just everything about him screams effortless perfection; right down to those few hairs that fall misplaced over his eye. “God, overdramatic teenage depression sucks.”

It takes until now for me to realize, I’m not nervous at all. I should be sweating bullets and resisting the urge to puke. Only I’m not, I’m calm as bathwater… because I know this isn’t going anywhere. I know that even if I did obsess and try harder then what should be humanly possible; this will only end the same way every other relationship I’ve been in or seen or dreamed of has. I’m single and cynical if you haven’t noticed.

A loud knock penetrates into the simulated privacy of our room and a deep male voice yells,

“Lights out!” and the lights flick off.

I fall back into the bed and stare at the ceiling. I hear Jeremiah get into his bed.

“Yea, it does suck…” He says, as the sound of the stiff hospital sheets crinkling tells me that he just rolled over onto his side.

“Goodnight.” I whisper quietly, more a pathetic plea to myself and to the world then my neighbor in the bed next to me.