A hospital friendship program unexpectedly brings together a pessimistic patient with an overly charismatic stranger. However, just because two paths cross, it doesn't mean everything else perfectly aligns.
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After a rare diagnosis alters the cou...
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I didn't really know what I was searching for until I found myself wandering through the parking lot, my eyes fixed on a specific car.
Honestly, I'm not much of a planner. Life has a way of working out, even if I stumble my way through it (let's keep that between us though). But right now, a plan would've been smart. It would've made me seem less foolish than I felt.
I don't even know why I walked all the way out here. I could've just shrugged my shoulders and headed back to Sae's office to waste time like I usually do. There's no real reason to be trailing after Carwyn—well, if you could even call this trailing.
Chances are, Carwyn's probably fine. He's a big guy. Tall, not like me who's always slouching, and he's got more weight than I could imagine carrying around. So logically, he's probably handling whatever's going on just fine.
He's likely perfectly capable, but here I am, making this journey without a real reason. Carwyn's probably got everything under control, yet this nagging feeling in the back of my head won't quit. Maybe I'm doing this to ease my conscience, or maybe to shut up the doubts that are getting a bit too loud.
It didn't take me long to find him; he always parks near the front. Why? Well, he once told me he didn't want me to "collapse from exhaustion trying to cross the monstrous parking lot" just to reach him. Translation: Carwyn thought I'd basically drop dead if he didn't park up front.
It sounded ridiculous at first, but as I approached his car, slightly out of breath, a warmth spread through my chest at the memory of his words. It bloomed like a flower, each petal tinged with an ache that somehow hurt more than my shortness of breath.
I tried not to dwell on it, on how considerate Carwyn always is. I tried to push away thoughts of how much he cares. We haven't known each other that long, but in various ways, Carwyn has shown he cares every time.
The morning pancakes we share. The early morning chats. The transition from asking "how are you" to playful teasing. The random things we've added to our bucket list. His endless patience during those driving lessons. Even the slightly silly reasons he came up with to make things easier for me—though they're silly, they make me feel less out of place. And then there's his smile, his laughter, the comfort he brings effortlessly.
It wasn't some big, extreme realization. I didn't have any dramatic, cliché music blaring in the background, nor was there any rain or a will to run thrumming through my veins. Instead, my heart just tightened, and my face, god my face, felt warmer than it should be.
And then the guilt settled in. Or rather, it punched me in the gut, and before I reached my car, I nearly stumbled, realizing how rude I was.
I'm not stupid. When you're facing the end, you somehow become hyper-aware of how you treat people. While some might push it aside, I just couldn't. I could remember every word I said, and each syllable weighed on me, wondering how my decisions might affect someone's life.
