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Hospital Bed Musings

by FenixTaichou 

Posted: 25 May 2010
Word Count: 370
Summary: Short piece I wrote. It was one of those "venting emotions" types. I always struggle to write when I try too hard, when I let it flow, this kind of thing happens

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I lie awake at night in this cold, unfeeling hospital, and I think of you. You are all that gets me through this, every hour of every day, hoping youíll walk through those double doors. I glance over at the doors every time I hear them open, but youíre not there. It hurts every time. I have to stare up and count the stains in the ceiling tiles to keep my mind occupied. Itís been the same these last few weeks.

People come to see me. Friends, family, co-workers. Itís always the same thing. I put on a brave smile, we small talk to the best of my ability, I get tired, and they leave. I know they mean well, but every time they walk out of that door it hurts, because I canít go with them. Maybe you know this, and maybe thatís why I donít see you.

I sleep, I dream, always of you. You walk through those double doors, your favourite torn jeans and beige tank top, your hands on your hips and wry smile with those ďWhat am I going to do with you?Ē eyes. I try to reach out to you, but I canít feel my arms. I feel sometimes that I dream more than Iím awake.

They say in time things could improve, but I wonder where youíll be in a month, or a year. It already feels like youíve forgotten me. Iíd run to you, if I could only feel my legs. Donít blame yourself. It wasnít your fault.

I stare at the same tiles; I sleep under the same thin cotton cover. I dream once more, the same dream as always. I wake up with a start. A kindly old nurse rests her hand gently on my shoulder and gives me a comforting look. She asks me if Iím dreaming about you again. She tells me I was calling your name in my sleep. She says that youíre a sweet, caring girl. I ask her how she knows, and she tells me that youíve been by my side every day. I wonder if Iím dreaming again, and I hear the double doors swing open. I look over... and I dream no more.

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