Heat

Picking up the pieces

He's gone.

He slipped away quietly in the early hours of the morning.

Am I lost? Am I relieved? Am I heart broken?

I think I'm a little of everything and a lot of nothing.

Scott and I are sitting in our dad's empty hospital room, it's 11am on New Years Eve morning and neither of us feel like celebrating.

Our dad has made it through the night but our love lives are flat-lining.

We are here on our own, staring out of the windows at the river. Dad is down having scans and Trish has taken mum home for a shower and breakfast. I try to think about my last meal - it was sometime yesterday - I had a bite of pizza yesterday evening but I've lost my appetite - I've lost everything.

I haven't really slept either, it seems like a million years since I did that. I tossed and turned all night - my bed felt so empty and wrong without him. He's only been in my life a little more than a week and yet, he's left a gaping hole that I didn't expect. I suppose he slept in the spare room, I don't know. I didn't see him after the bathroom.

Apparently he and Stuart left with Dave when he dropped in at 7am this morning on the way home. I didn't hear a thing - it must have been the only time I slept all night.

There was no note. There was no message. I don't know where he is and I feel like I've lost part of myself. Dad's not the only person, one limb down.

When I came downstairs at 7.30am there was just Scott sitting on the verandah, staring blankly at the horizon with a scotch glass in his hand.

"They've gone," he said quietly. I just nodded - I'm doing that a lot at the moment.

And that was it. We got dressed and got on with it. A quiet ride in the car, a quiet trip in the elevator and now here we are.

There was only the cameraman from last night outside this morning. He was sweet and said sorry again and asked how dad was. We posed a little more for him this time and he warned us that there would be more later because of the pictures of Tom. I tried not to blanch at his name.

"They'll be out of luck mate - he's gone on to other friends," Scott had told them, I had wondered if he was going to Craig's - it made sense for him to go to him at Byron - he still had a couple of holidays left he may as well enjoy them. I wondered if the press had worked out that we were together - well the joke was on them if they had right?

"I'll let the others know - though I doubt they'll believe me," the cameraman said.

"But maybe get someone to pick you up from the other side of the hospital."

Scott thanked him and we hurried inside, thankful that we'd brought Scott's hire car today which hopefully the paps wouldn't know about.

We were there for a while before they took dad - they want to check his brain activity and run a few other tests.

And so here we are in an empty hospital room, nursing broken hearts.

I look over at Scott, he looks tired.

"So you okay?" I ask - dumb question number 286 from an older sister.

He nods and a smiles sadly.

"Heartbroken but I'm on the mend - fingers crossed dad will be too," he says quietly.

"Ah Stu will be back - you love each other."

"Nupe big sis this is it - it's been coming for a while, he doesn't want to acknowledge us in public, he's allowed to be gay but I'm not and no career's worth not being true to yourself Megs," he says.