For My Boyfriend's Eyes Only
011.
The next day turned out to be just as bad as I suspected it would be. Dr Rowland arrived at exactly eleven in the morning, when I was still coming round from the sedative that they'd pumped into me via an IV. I really wasn't in the mood for her questions, I knew I would get stressed and...what if I had another attack? Then what? I didn't exactly have much time to think about it because Rowland walked into my room, behind Justine my nurse, clutching her briefcase in one hand and half-waving with the other.
"Good morning Frank, how are you feeling?" her overly-cheery voice asked, hurting my ears.
"Terrible." I muttered, glancing at Justine and holding back a laugh that caught in the back of my throat when I saw the face she pulled at Dr Rowland.
"You'll be fine, I'm sure," she said, sitting down in the off-brown coloured armchair near the window, "So...could you leave us please?" she asked Justine as politely as she could, whilst she pulled out my file.
"Sure, I'll see you at twelve Frank." she smiled before returning the clipboard she held back into the pocket at the end of my bed and turning to leave.
"See you later." I called.
Dr Rowland eyed me for a few seconds before scribbling down a few notes, "So, what can you remember from the other night?"
"Not much." I said, sticking to my 'answers-as-short-as-possible' rule I'd made for myself.
"Okay, that's normal...it was Mikey that found you, right?"
"Yes."
"But you weren't with him at the time that the attack happened, were you?"
"No."
"Who was it?"
I stared blankly out of the window behind her, thinking about something totally different than the question at hand. Something along the lines of pushing her out of the window so I wouldn't have to be subjected to this torture ever again.
"Frank? Answer me please."
"It was Bert." I said glumly.
"Bert? Who's Bert?" she tried to sound surprised.
I swallowed away another lump in my throat. "He's Gerard's ex."
"Gerard was with someone before you?"
"Yeah...why is that so hard to believe?"
"It's not hard, just..." she shook her head lightly, "anyway, how did you feel seeing Bert there?"
"I don't know..." I sighed, "weird, I guess. I haven't seen him since...since high school."
Dr Rowland nodded and continued writing, "Are you and Bert friends?"
My eyebrows pulled together, "No? I-I don't know, we...hardly speak. Since me and Gerard got together it was like...I don't know. Like he wanted him back."
"How did that make you feel?"
"Pissed off, worried...I don't really remember."
"But wasn't it a bit silly thinking that, when Gerard was with you and you trusted and loved each other?"
I knew I was pissed off with her now, "Probably..."
"Do you think that's what brought on the attack?" she asked running her pen through her fingers.
"What? How could it? He's dead!" I answered, my voice raised.
"Maybe, seeing Bert after so long brought up all these old emotions you felt towards him and that angered you, that he only seemed to care now."
"But that's ridiculous!"
"It's possible."
"Oh every thing's fucking possible with you isn't it?!"
"Frank, I -"
Suddenly, the door burst open and Mikey stumbled in looking shocked, his eyes darted from me to Dr Rowland then back to me.
"Oh, I...um...I'm sorry, I'll come back later."
"Mikey wait." I called, just as he was about to leave. I noticed he was carrying a small bag. "What's that?"
"Um.." he opened the bag and pulled out a black notebook that I recognized immediately. "I thought you might want this." he walked over and set it on the cabinet next to me.
"Thanks Mikes."
"I'll come back later." he smiled as he headed out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him and there was silence, I stared at the 'present' that Mikey had left for me.
There was a small cough from beside me, Dr Rowland smiled politely, her thin mouth stretching into a finer line across her face, she pointed at the book with her expensive fountain pen.
"What's that?"
"Um...it's a diary."
"Is it yours?"
"No..."
"Who's is it then?"
The lump constricted my throat again, I swallowed several times to shift it before answering. "Gerard's."
"Do you read it?"
My lips twisted, debating whether I should tell the truth. "Yes." I muttered quietly.
"I see..." she scribbled more notes, "why do you read it?"
"I don't know." I snorted. "Why do you think?"
"I'm the one who asks the questions Frank."
I glared at Rowland, her almost smug face annoyed shit out of me more than usual and for the first time since I'd been getting my mind, unsuccessfully, sorted out, I actually made my own observation of my Doctor.
She was probably mid-thirties judging by the tiny creases around her eyes, she had finer lines around her mouth, a clear sign that she smoked or used to. Her hair was light brown with streaks of blond dragged through, it was mid-length and perfectly styled, a fringe cut in just above her right eyebrow.
Her suit was immaculate, a black pencil skirt hugging her thighs and perfectly polished black court shoes. The blouse was simple, white and open-collared revealing her neck that bore a fine silver chain.
I guessed that she was married, but it was probably on the rocks because of the amount of time she spent with fuck-ups like me. She had a tendency to get irritated or impatient easily, the tapping of the pen against my file was a dead give-away.
"So," she sighed, lightly scratching her eyebrow with a manicured nail, another sign, she had too much money. "Why do you read it?"
I continued to glare at her, to make her feel uncomfortable, "I said I don't know."
"Is it curiosity? Do you wonder what he wrote, if he mentioned you?"
"Look, it's none of your fucking business! He was my boyfriend and I don't need you or anyone to tell me what's wrong with my life!" I shouted.
"Frank..."
"No! I don't anyone telling me how I should 'move on', because I can't!"
"That's what I'm here to do Frank."
"No you're not, you've spent the best part of three months trying to help me and what good has it done?!"
"Maybe if you co-operated more -"
"NO! Don't try and blame me! I can't help it that I loved him too much for my own good, I'm sorry! I'm a fucking human being!"
That's when Justine entered and pulled an oxygen mask over my face so I could breathe properly, the beeping of the heart monitor increased every second and my skin started to feel hot and clammy.
Somewhere in the blurred room before me a voice called out, "I think it's time you left...it's okay Frank...just sleep..."
"Good morning Frank, how are you feeling?" her overly-cheery voice asked, hurting my ears.
"Terrible." I muttered, glancing at Justine and holding back a laugh that caught in the back of my throat when I saw the face she pulled at Dr Rowland.
"You'll be fine, I'm sure," she said, sitting down in the off-brown coloured armchair near the window, "So...could you leave us please?" she asked Justine as politely as she could, whilst she pulled out my file.
"Sure, I'll see you at twelve Frank." she smiled before returning the clipboard she held back into the pocket at the end of my bed and turning to leave.
"See you later." I called.
Dr Rowland eyed me for a few seconds before scribbling down a few notes, "So, what can you remember from the other night?"
"Not much." I said, sticking to my 'answers-as-short-as-possible' rule I'd made for myself.
"Okay, that's normal...it was Mikey that found you, right?"
"Yes."
"But you weren't with him at the time that the attack happened, were you?"
"No."
"Who was it?"
I stared blankly out of the window behind her, thinking about something totally different than the question at hand. Something along the lines of pushing her out of the window so I wouldn't have to be subjected to this torture ever again.
"Frank? Answer me please."
"It was Bert." I said glumly.
"Bert? Who's Bert?" she tried to sound surprised.
I swallowed away another lump in my throat. "He's Gerard's ex."
"Gerard was with someone before you?"
"Yeah...why is that so hard to believe?"
"It's not hard, just..." she shook her head lightly, "anyway, how did you feel seeing Bert there?"
"I don't know..." I sighed, "weird, I guess. I haven't seen him since...since high school."
Dr Rowland nodded and continued writing, "Are you and Bert friends?"
My eyebrows pulled together, "No? I-I don't know, we...hardly speak. Since me and Gerard got together it was like...I don't know. Like he wanted him back."
"How did that make you feel?"
"Pissed off, worried...I don't really remember."
"But wasn't it a bit silly thinking that, when Gerard was with you and you trusted and loved each other?"
I knew I was pissed off with her now, "Probably..."
"Do you think that's what brought on the attack?" she asked running her pen through her fingers.
"What? How could it? He's dead!" I answered, my voice raised.
"Maybe, seeing Bert after so long brought up all these old emotions you felt towards him and that angered you, that he only seemed to care now."
"But that's ridiculous!"
"It's possible."
"Oh every thing's fucking possible with you isn't it?!"
"Frank, I -"
Suddenly, the door burst open and Mikey stumbled in looking shocked, his eyes darted from me to Dr Rowland then back to me.
"Oh, I...um...I'm sorry, I'll come back later."
"Mikey wait." I called, just as he was about to leave. I noticed he was carrying a small bag. "What's that?"
"Um.." he opened the bag and pulled out a black notebook that I recognized immediately. "I thought you might want this." he walked over and set it on the cabinet next to me.
"Thanks Mikes."
"I'll come back later." he smiled as he headed out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him and there was silence, I stared at the 'present' that Mikey had left for me.
There was a small cough from beside me, Dr Rowland smiled politely, her thin mouth stretching into a finer line across her face, she pointed at the book with her expensive fountain pen.
"What's that?"
"Um...it's a diary."
"Is it yours?"
"No..."
"Who's is it then?"
The lump constricted my throat again, I swallowed several times to shift it before answering. "Gerard's."
"Do you read it?"
My lips twisted, debating whether I should tell the truth. "Yes." I muttered quietly.
"I see..." she scribbled more notes, "why do you read it?"
"I don't know." I snorted. "Why do you think?"
"I'm the one who asks the questions Frank."
I glared at Rowland, her almost smug face annoyed shit out of me more than usual and for the first time since I'd been getting my mind, unsuccessfully, sorted out, I actually made my own observation of my Doctor.
She was probably mid-thirties judging by the tiny creases around her eyes, she had finer lines around her mouth, a clear sign that she smoked or used to. Her hair was light brown with streaks of blond dragged through, it was mid-length and perfectly styled, a fringe cut in just above her right eyebrow.
Her suit was immaculate, a black pencil skirt hugging her thighs and perfectly polished black court shoes. The blouse was simple, white and open-collared revealing her neck that bore a fine silver chain.
I guessed that she was married, but it was probably on the rocks because of the amount of time she spent with fuck-ups like me. She had a tendency to get irritated or impatient easily, the tapping of the pen against my file was a dead give-away.
"So," she sighed, lightly scratching her eyebrow with a manicured nail, another sign, she had too much money. "Why do you read it?"
I continued to glare at her, to make her feel uncomfortable, "I said I don't know."
"Is it curiosity? Do you wonder what he wrote, if he mentioned you?"
"Look, it's none of your fucking business! He was my boyfriend and I don't need you or anyone to tell me what's wrong with my life!" I shouted.
"Frank..."
"No! I don't anyone telling me how I should 'move on', because I can't!"
"That's what I'm here to do Frank."
"No you're not, you've spent the best part of three months trying to help me and what good has it done?!"
"Maybe if you co-operated more -"
"NO! Don't try and blame me! I can't help it that I loved him too much for my own good, I'm sorry! I'm a fucking human being!"
That's when Justine entered and pulled an oxygen mask over my face so I could breathe properly, the beeping of the heart monitor increased every second and my skin started to feel hot and clammy.
Somewhere in the blurred room before me a voice called out, "I think it's time you left...it's okay Frank...just sleep..."
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