heart monitors-dreamnotfound

eight

There are countless mornings where George would wake up and think to himself: What was he doing with his life?

Because in the end, what was he really doing. Definitely not pursuing the perfect life he envisioned as an eight-year-old.

As an eight-year-old with an average personality, he had wished for nothing but the best. The coolest computer, the best collecting cards, and just everything else that proved to be more superior than the rest.

That didn't exactly age well.

A teenager like George would want something a bit more complex than that. A free ticket to college, maybe. Or the chance to be the homecoming queen or king.

Something normal, nothing that was different from the average high schooler.

But George was different from other people. And he knew that.

How could he think otherwise?

How could he when the four corners of the hospital room kept reminding him? The beeping of the heart monitor rooting him to the earth, his only contact to outside being through the glass panes windows.

He did have the choice to go outside, but what was the point of doing so?

But wasn't he just complaining about not getting a life outside of the hospital?

Maybe he was just an overthinker, that's just who he was.

Speaking of which...

"Have you thought of who you really are?" Dr. Rayne asked as she leaned forward in her chair.

George thought for a bit before answering. "Yes, I have been thinking, and..." he paused. "It's pretty stupid."

"Aren't we all?"

"No, but this dips below the stupidity levels of an average human."

"Very nicely phrased," the woman answered, jotting some notes on the paper. She looked up to face George, "Well?"

He sighed, "In some way, we are our decisions. It's what we can control."

"Great point," Dr. Rayne beamed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "But the word, 'decision' is a very wide term. A decision could be many things," she smiled once more. "Like what you eat for lunch, that's a decision, it's a choice. But does a turkey sandwich and some blue sour gummies really explain who you are?"

"No, but-" he stopped, "-but the term is widespread, but I mean in a more specific matter."

"I'm following along."

"Like who you care about, or who really cares about you. That's your decision, right?"

"If that's who you are, yes."

"It's weird, but it is."

"It's good to rely on people. People shape us in the ways that you'd never expect," the therapist said with a brief smile.

"But that's just being clingy, isn't it?"

Dr. Rayne laughed, "In some ways yes. In that certain way of thinking, the cup is half empty. I like thinking of it like..." she tried to pick the most accurate word. "To actually trust them, to know that they'll be there for you when you trip and fall. That type of unconditional love."

"I guess so."

"You say that a lot, is there a reason for that?" Dr. Rayne said, flicking her ballpoint pen across the page.