So, this is the product of not getting any sleep for like two days or something, I'm not really sure.
If it sucks, then it sucks and tell me.
By the way, yes there is plenty of stuff that doesn't make much sense, and stuff I didn't tie off, but I think that was the point.
~~
Everything was fading. I struggled to keep focus on anything, but no matter how hard it was to now because of the letter he gave me, I had to finish what I started. And I needed it to work. I heard the clock ding, so this was it. I summoned all of the power left I had into him. Then, it all turned black.
I woke with a jolting start as the electric paddles touched my skin. There were indefinite circles in my vision swirling about, luring me to die again for good. I almost did, but I kept my eyes open with strenuous effort. I took in a long, shaky breath, and my heart was beating faintly in my chest. All the while, doctors flooded my room, checking things like my blood pressure and heart rate. The visiting hours were open, but not one person came to see me, except for Him. He entered my room, and sat on my bed in silence. He just looked at me with pity and sympathy, which I could not bear. I closed my eyes and waited for him to leave. When he didn’t get up, I grew agitated, and pressed the nurses button. When she entered, he left sullenly and I asked her for some food. When she returned with it, I had it eaten in minutes. No matter how much power I had lost saving his life, I still had the energy to eat savagely. I still was shaky and weak. He hadn’t told me this would happen.
He also told me he loved me.
It was a confusing thought; how someone could act so loving, and it was all a façade. How your closest friends, in reality, ended up becoming your worst enemies. It hurts to realize this, but who said it wouldn’t?
I had helped save his life, and almost died and lost my life for him, and he still could not say one word of thanks. And I knew he never would. He would say it was my duty; that I owed Him.
He was the epitome of my life at one point, but not anymore. He thinks I’ll need help standing on my two perfectly capable feet, but no, I do not need a knight in shining armor to sweep my off my feet. I am perfectly capable of brushing the dust off my shoulders and moving on. No matter what, I can be my own without him.
I lay in the sterile hospital room, and it gets lonely. He comes in every once in awhile, but I pay no attention to him. Instead, I read some of my books that I packed in my rage at him, leaving his house to find an apartment somewhere and starting a new life. I close my eyes and remember the bomb going off, he yelling in pain, and me saving him out of feelings I still held for him. I was naïve, but I am over that now. One of the books was Romeo and Juliet, a stupid choice considering my circumstance. I tossed it onto the nurses’ station and grabbed another. He was still sitting on the bed in maybe his third shift. My sense of time and memory were ceasing to work at the time, so I wasn’t sure. I finally get fed up with the silence.
“What do you want?” I ask, but my question is left to oblivion when he doesn’t answer. I got angrier with each passing second, and my arms are crossed across my chest. I wait until he finally speaks.
“I hear you, but do I understand? I talk, but do I communicate? I touch, but do I feel?” I am astounded by his words, which were so old-fashioned. I didn’t understand, but the power in his voice is overwhelming. I sit there, dumbfounded, and I’m not quite sure what I should say.
“I love you,” he begins, “but I am not worthy of your love. I heard your problems, but did I ever know quite what you were talking about your struggles. I’ve told you I love you, but my actions always say the contrary. I kissed you countless times, but I never felt your lips, the texture of your skin, or the gentleness of your arms around me. I’m not some hero, like I thought I was sometimes. I realize that now.”
“Go. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” But I did know. I knew that feeling very well, but in the years had overcome it. I had never loved before him. And if this was what love was, I didn’t want any part of it.
But now part of me was in Him; my blood flowing through His veins. But He seemed no weaker than before though I struggled to keep my vision. Somehow, I could feel him in a way now than never before. As I focused in on him, I felt every tendon tense, each ligament under a gentle strain keeping him together. It was an uneasy invasion of him, but I figured after all I had done for him it would be forgiven.
Now I couldn't worry about his movement, while I was like this. I let him go, mind and body, and went back to my book, as he slowly rose from his position and left the room.
