Writing

I started this months ago and just found it. It's the beginning of a story or something. I usually write poetry but this just flowed out of me.



MEETINGS

He would go to the meetings with her. He wasn't exactly sure why he did it, just that it felt like the right thing to do. But it didn't really feel right. He didn't fit in. He wasn't a drinker and didn't even like beer, something he had never told his buddies instead usually volunteered to be the designated driver.

They met in a hospital. He saw her and wanted to save her, and he always wondered what she saw in him. He wanted to erase the scars on her arms with kisses and show her that life was worth living. He wanted her to live to spend her life with him.

He was so naive.

It wasn't the first time she had been here or even hospitalized. She knew her way around, the schedules, the terms, how it all worked. She seemed to know the staff, the counselors, the doctors, and even the cafeteria workers. She said hi to them all, but rarely smiled back at them.

He followed her around with his eyes. He didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself. The fact was she brought him out of his own misery. When he was thinking of her he wasn't wondering how the world could be so black with only a little gray. He wasn't stuck in his mind and his chest wasn’t aching with all those unshed tears.

Lying on his bed after he unpacked he discovered that he was only allowed to be in his room to sleep. He had to socialize. Just what he didn't want to do. He wished that his hair was just a little longer to cover more of his face. It didn't make sense and he knew it, but he felt that if he couldn't see them they couldn't see him.

Only after they became closer and would sit and talk at the round table playing crazy eights or hearts with other patients, did she lift her head to look at him. He felt her eyes studying him, but he was never quick enough to meet her gaze. He still had no idea why she was in. The scars on her arms were definitely a year or two old, and she hadn't said much but her name when they were all together in group. He felt a kinship with her, even though things had never been bad enough for him to try and disappear from the pain forever.

The longer he stayed in the hospital the more comfortable he felt there. But that’s not where he wanted to be. A little apartment with Stacy was what he was dreaming of. He kept that to himself. It was a dream just like the ones he had while lying in his bed waiting for sleep to close his eyes. In his dream they were happy and together. Her dark eyes would meet his with a smile. And that’s when he usually fell asleep. Thinking of those dark eyes filled with happiness.