Status: Waiting on collaborator.
Bleeding Heart
Arin 1, 7:35am; Too Early
It's not like we expected each other to live forever. Everyone has their expiration date. I just don't think we ever thought one of ours would come so soon. Hell, I didn't think it would come so soon, but then again, who ever really expects their own demise?
Blue walls for calm. Or at least, that's what I expect they were going for when they chose the color. But who can ever really be calm sitting where I am right now? And the smell, like this place could ever really feel clean, what with all the sick and the dying. The sound of the sterile paper sheets crinkling beneath my weight as I shift onto my other side might as well be nails against chalkboard. I hate the sound of their footsteps as they travel up and down the hall way doing their rounds. I’d turn the television on, but that’d just alert the nurses that it’d be okay to disturb me, which it isn’t.
Did I mention I hate hospitals?
I glance over at the generic, white-rimmed clock with its black hands sluggishly drifting from one black tick mark to another. 7:35am. I should be sleeping right now. But, instead, I'm looking at shapes in the ceiling. Visiting hours start in twenty-five minutes.
Liam...
I would have had a more restful sleep if the hospital would just let me go home. I could be snuggled up next to him right now. But I'm not. I'm here. It won’t be for much longer though, one way or the other I’ll be leaving this place, either wrapped in his arms or a body bag. But I can’t tell Liam that. He went through so much with me for the last year and a half, I don’t know if I could have survived it all without him. I finally went into remission six months ago, and it was a relief to see the constant look of fear leave his eyes.
It breaks my heart to see it back, but at least there is still hope in them. Speaking of my broken heart, that’s why I’m back here in this damned hospital. The thing about the type of chemotherapy they give those of us fortunate enough to get breast cancer, is that treating an area so close to your heart with that poison can destroy your heart. So the chemo, if you make it to remission, provides you with another problem once it fixes one: a useless heart, if you’re unlucky that is. I’m sure you can guess which side of karma I’m on, that’s right: unlucky. But at least I got four months of seemingly normal life before I went back to being imprisoned here. So I can’t complain too much, right? Wrong. My mom always said that I could find something to complain about anything. I just like to think of it as seeing all sides of a situation.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I glance over at the clock. 8:01am. He’s nothing if not punctual. The door opens slowly, quietly, as he peeks his head through the crack.
“Hey, you. Thought you might like this, don’t tell Nurse Ratched, though. We’re already on our third strike with her.” He walks over and hands me a cup of glorious coffee.
Once I partake in a deep, indulgent sip.
Mmmm…. Black Forest, my favorite.
I grin up at him and whisper, “Good morning.”
He leans down and kisses my lips, “You look tired.”
Blue walls for calm. Or at least, that's what I expect they were going for when they chose the color. But who can ever really be calm sitting where I am right now? And the smell, like this place could ever really feel clean, what with all the sick and the dying. The sound of the sterile paper sheets crinkling beneath my weight as I shift onto my other side might as well be nails against chalkboard. I hate the sound of their footsteps as they travel up and down the hall way doing their rounds. I’d turn the television on, but that’d just alert the nurses that it’d be okay to disturb me, which it isn’t.
Did I mention I hate hospitals?
I glance over at the generic, white-rimmed clock with its black hands sluggishly drifting from one black tick mark to another. 7:35am. I should be sleeping right now. But, instead, I'm looking at shapes in the ceiling. Visiting hours start in twenty-five minutes.
Liam...
I would have had a more restful sleep if the hospital would just let me go home. I could be snuggled up next to him right now. But I'm not. I'm here. It won’t be for much longer though, one way or the other I’ll be leaving this place, either wrapped in his arms or a body bag. But I can’t tell Liam that. He went through so much with me for the last year and a half, I don’t know if I could have survived it all without him. I finally went into remission six months ago, and it was a relief to see the constant look of fear leave his eyes.
It breaks my heart to see it back, but at least there is still hope in them. Speaking of my broken heart, that’s why I’m back here in this damned hospital. The thing about the type of chemotherapy they give those of us fortunate enough to get breast cancer, is that treating an area so close to your heart with that poison can destroy your heart. So the chemo, if you make it to remission, provides you with another problem once it fixes one: a useless heart, if you’re unlucky that is. I’m sure you can guess which side of karma I’m on, that’s right: unlucky. But at least I got four months of seemingly normal life before I went back to being imprisoned here. So I can’t complain too much, right? Wrong. My mom always said that I could find something to complain about anything. I just like to think of it as seeing all sides of a situation.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I glance over at the clock. 8:01am. He’s nothing if not punctual. The door opens slowly, quietly, as he peeks his head through the crack.
“Hey, you. Thought you might like this, don’t tell Nurse Ratched, though. We’re already on our third strike with her.” He walks over and hands me a cup of glorious coffee.
Once I partake in a deep, indulgent sip.
Mmmm…. Black Forest, my favorite.
I grin up at him and whisper, “Good morning.”
He leans down and kisses my lips, “You look tired.”
♠ ♠ ♠
This was all myssblyss. I suggest reading her other works. Once again this is a collab piece