Familiar

6) Handwriting

Handwriting is an imprint of the self on a page.

You know that feeling when you wake up and then fall asleep again. But when you wake up for the second time, you forget what it felt like when you woke up the first time. You wanna go back, sleep again, remember the feeling. The one and only thing you remember about it is that it was peaceful.

That's why you want to go back. It's because it never was reality. They say to live in reality, but you sometimes have to prove them wrong and try something new. You want to go back just for one more moment. Just forget about everything and everyone. Just lay there, clueless but peaceful. Why can't we have those moments in life? Why do we listen to the right things? Right choices aren't always the right choices. The right choices are waiting for someone to prove them wrong, to argument about another way. Because there is always another path. There are always several right choices.

But of course we want a balance. You can't stay away from reality for ever, and you can't stay in reality forever. If you want to know how life works, then there you have it. Describe the world peace in one word.

Balance.

Find balance and you find the key to life. You have to experience life before you find balance though. You are going to make wrong decisions and right ones too. The time will pass by and your knowledge will improve without you even noticing. You'll find balance like that. Just live life and experience it. But how could she do that?

She did experience it. She did wrong things, she did all of those things. But why did it feel like nothing changed. No progress, no balance, nothing.

Her eyes were opened, and time flew by while those thoughts fucked her up. She didn't even want to look where she was at. She knew where she was. She had hand over hand, and her eyes were looking at the invisible air. Her teary eyes eventually dried out.

When she looked around, she could see a figure sitting on a chair next to her. Michael.

He had his head in his hands, looking exhausted. She finally moved her hand over his to get his attention. He looked up in a flash and held on to her hand with both of his.

"Hey, Hey how are you?"

He asked as if he was out of breath. Lydias dry lips tilted upwards to a small smile. She didn't feel like talking. He sighed and looked down at the papers the doctors had given him.

"Your ankle is broken,"

He exhaled once again. Lydia didn't move her stare from him. She wasn't listening. She didn't care about her ankle. She didn't care about anything. She felt so empty and careless. She just nodded automatically and pretended to listen as he continued talking about her health.

She saw a bouquet of roses far away from her on another table. Suddenly, her eyes opened. She sat up completely and removed her covers. Michael looked at what she was doing and stood up.

"Lydia, what are you doing?"

She didn't listen at all, She just blocked him out. Her bare foot hit the floor as the broken one still was on the bed. Michael ran to the other side of the bed where she was. He held her but she tried to get out of his touch.

"Lydia you can't walk, your ankle is broken,"

He almost shouted in her ear to get her attention. She stopped moving. No one said anything. She moved her head up to him. He could see his reflection on her teary eyes.