Never Say Goodbye

“Hey is this seat taken?” A cute American accent asked. Not good. Before even looking at the guy I had crumbled. I was a sucker for those accents.
I looked up from my I-pod screen, taking the sound of Paramore’s new song out of my ears, to be met by a pair of perfect hazel eyes. I stared dumbly as the guy gestured towards the seat next to me. Ok, by now I seriously needed to open my mouth.
“Oh, erm, no it’s not,” I half-whispered with a sheepish smile before moving my bag for him.
After 3 minutes of not knowing what the hell to say, my head hurt even more, like some giant hamster was gnawing at my brain cells…quite likely in my case.
“So, you’re going to Canters? Shopping?” He added with a chuckle, flicking his styled fringe from his eyes, only for it to go straight back again. I loved that. Anyway, I smiled at his assumption, and, with his inviting friendliness I began to feel a little more confident.
“Knowing me, most probably. But really I’m going to hang out with my mates.” I replied with a smile, loving the way I could talk casually to someone who I didn’t expect to go ‘oh and I suppose your trying to make the most of your freedom’ or ‘How are you feeling today?’ silently probing into thoughts that really made me cry inside. I suppose everyone reading this short little text thinks that, ‘Well, she couldn’t have been all that effected by all this, she was thinking about boys and going shopping with her friends’. But that’s what people didn’t and still don’t understand about me and my past. Why do you think I felt that I wanted to do all those things? Think about it. Carefully. They were distractions. The way I saw it, my life was already hard enough. Telling people how I would be brushing my teeth, look in the mirror and watch endless tears slide down my cheeks, sickening me to the point where I would have to lean over the toilet just in-case would just make it harder. Make the reminders that much stronger, and I didn’t need that then. The only thoughts that ran through my brain were that I could die, soon, and that I had to make the most of everything around me. Even if it was just a bus ride to Canterbury. Soon the bus squealed to a stop just outside ‘The west gate’ and everyone piled off, rushing to start spending their holiday savings.
I followed the guy off and as he began to walk away I had a million thoughts running through my aching mind, one of which being my annoyance at not even catching his name. But to be honest there was not much point anyway seeing as though I only had days before I went into hospital. So I reluctantly turned my back and walked away. I began to go back to my usual fretting, until someone stopped me, that is.
“I didn’t catch your name,” the boy from the bus gasped, out of breath. How cute.
“Helen Wilson,” I smiled genuinely for the first time in quite a while.
“I’m Mikey Daniels,” he replied, flashing a grin, “well, Michael, but I hate that, so everyone calls me Mikey.”
“Easy to remember, I only need to think of MCR,” I mused. He chuckled obviously thinking I meant Mikey Way but really I was thinking about how much he looked like the singer, Gerard Way. Not that I was complaining of course.
“Cool, well, I’ve got to go, meeting someone but I’ll look out for you today, OK?”
“Me too,” I grinned, maybe today wasn’t going to be as bad as I expected.