I sat in my own little corner of the room. For hours I’ve been here retracing my steps to where it all began.
I wonder how I got here. How I got this pit in my stomach that won’t stop growing. I feel like I’ve been falling and it is an endless tunnel to nowhere. That it will never stop. But now there’s a chance, a sliver of hope.
Maybe I’m wrong; maybe I’m just experiencing changes and I’ll wake up one day still in this cold hospital, letting it suck all emotions out of me, leaving me dry and empty inside.
Now I wonder; again these questions rush through my head like a sand storm, and I’m left with this blurry confusion weighing me down.
Peter. It seems he's the only thing that appears in my head these days. It's as if he’s waking me up from a long sleep I never knew I was stuck in, kind of like sleeping beauty, though I haven’t gotten that kiss yet. But he’s so very beautiful, Peter has those kinds of eyes that sparkle; the gorgeous diamond blue, not the dull grayish type. But the contrast of his eyes and that dark black head of hair is stunning.
You could say this indispensable need for him is an obsession, but it’s has gone to much greater lengths than that. I feel connected to him. Like, he and I could speak without speaking.
He’s my hope.
The thought of him leaving brings up an anxiety in me that I rather not have. I get up from where I’m sitting and return to my bed. Glancing up at the clock, I realize it’s after curfew.
I really don't want to get caught sitting up in bed with this deep frown on my face. They’ll say my thoughts are irrational again. In the hospital nobody gets even five minutes to themselves just to gather thoughts. I guess that’s just enough time for some of us to go psycho.
Closing my eyes I feel a warm calmness wash through my body. My eyelids get heavy, and then I find myself dozing off. My slumber was dreamless that night. It gave me a peace the next morning; I floated around the room with a wistful, contemplative expression sprawled across my face.
I’m sure there’s going to be a change soon. Peter even told me he might be able to get me out of here for good. That’s what made my day.
Every time I hear or think his name, four big letters pop up inside my skull, Hope. I honestly believe in this man who only came back into my life around 2 weeks ago.
Hope is a strong thing; it can bring you places of faith and possibility, or it can bring you blindly to a dangerous, depressing place. I just hope I remember that connections are just strong attractions between two people. If I don’t, I might wind up in a deep hole of despair.