Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I want…I want to fight.
When I look up, Peter is gone, leaving me alone with whatever Theodore wants to tell me. Am I ready to hear it? I’m not sure, but I owe it to him to try.
Sliding my finger under the tab, I break the seal on the envelope and pluck out an iPod, my iPod I think, and a letter. Chewing my bottom lip, I suck in what feels like my first breath in hours and start to read.
James,
You’re a stupid fucking idiot and I’m mad with you…but I also love you. I LOVE YOU. I don’t understand what’s going on in your head. I’ve tried, but no, I don’t get it. But I’m here. I can’t understand what you’re going thorough but know I’ll be by your side while you do. Know that I’m close, even if you don’t want me to be. I’m not going anywhere. Unfortunately for you, you’re not the boss here, so you’re just going to have to suck it up.
I’m forced to look up for a moment, blinking the tears away. If I close my eyes I can see the expression on his face as he wrote that last sentence. He’s cute when he tries to be authoritative.
I hope you’re not being too much of an arse to the nurses. I can imagine them talking about what a pompous twat you are in the staff room. At least I hope they are. If you’re pissing them off it means you’re coming back to me. I’m sure they can handle you. I’ve met your therapist. He’s certainly unique, I’ll give him that. He seems as stubborn as you, which is good. You need someone who won’t stand for your bullshit.
I miss your bullshit, James. I miss your attitude. I miss the feel of your skin. I miss the way your jaw ticks when someone, usually me, annoys you. I even miss your freckle.
I miss you.
I’m staying in your apartment. I hope you don’t mind. Not that I care if you do…I’m not leaving. I can be a stubborn bastard too. I learned from the best. It’s not very tidy I’m afraid. Right now there’s two day old, half-eaten Chinese food all over your coffee table. Oh and the fridge is filled with cheap food instead of your fancy Sainsbury’s shit. If you want to change that you better hurry up and get better so you can come home.
Okay, I’ve rambled long enough. I’m putting your iPod in the envelope. You must be missing your music. I’ve not touched your songs but you’ll find a playlist with just three songs on it. They’re songs that say everything I want to tell you, but I can’t because you’re being a dickface.
You’ll be Okay by A Great Big World – I need you to listen to every single lyric and BELIEVE them.
Here Without You by 3 Doors Down – I’m here. I’m with you.
Maybe Tomorrow by the Stereophonics – Just…because.
Get better, James. Choose to keep going. Choose US. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.
Theodore
PS: The halogen lights in your kitchen have blown and I don’t know how to get them out to replace them.
When I finish reading there’s a smile etched onto my lips. A real, genuine smile that I can feel tugging at the skin around my eyes. Lying down, I roll onto my side and read the whole thing again, then I twist my earphones into my ears and scroll for the playlist he’s created. I laugh when I find the playlist titled Get the Fuck Better. I start from the bottom because You’ll be Okay is the only song I’m not familiar with. I also think it might be the hardest to listen to.
Maybe Tomorrow sparks memories that keep the smile on my face. I’m taken back to the night I first saw him, belting it out of tune, to playing it in my car for no other reason than I wanted to see him squirm. I was happy in those moments. I have known happiness. My brain has been lying to me and I believed it so easily.
When Here Without You dances into my ears I start to sink again, but I fight it. I kick and struggle, and vow to make it to shore so I can be with him. Right now, I don’t want to be here without him, either.
The last song is as difficult to hear as I expected. I try so hard to believe the lyrics like he asked me to but I just…can’t. Not yet. Will I be okay? I don’t know. But I want to be.
Without giving myself time to think, I get up and walk out of my room. I have only left the safety of my room a couple of times and I feel self-conscious, as if everyone is watching me, as I make my way to the staff office.
The door is open and Peter stands from his chair, walking over to me as soon as he spies me coming.
Dragging in a deep breath and holding it there, I mutter, “When Theodore comes inside today…I want to see him.”
**********
One of my nurses is due soon to watch over me while I shave. In front of the mirror, after showering and changing, I rub at the thick stubble coating my face. I look like shit. I’ve lost weight, my hair needs cutting, my skin is pale. I can’t help wondering how Theodore will react to me. I look nothing like the man he fell in love with.
He loves you, I remind myself. I need to hold onto that, to believe it even when my mind is telling me not to.
When my nurse arrives, I make the effort, for the first time, to read her ID badge that’s pinned to her shirt. “Thank you, Jackie,” I say, taking the disposable razor and shaving foam from her. I’m grateful she lets me go into the bathroom alone, although she asks that I keep the door ajar.
It takes me a while to remove the hair that I’ve allowed to build up over the last few weeks, made more difficult by my thumb that refuses to cooperate, and when I’m done, I barely recognise myself. It’s been years since I’ve been clean-shaven, usually opting to run over my beard with the clippers. Again, I wonder what Theodore will think. Having smooth skin definitely accentuates the gauntness of my cheeks, but I look marginally more acceptable than I did fifteen minutes ago.