Girl (completed)

47

   "How are the kids?" I asked John eagerly, and he smiled. It had been a while since I had seen him do that, and it felt like ages since I had.
   "They're okay. Poor Julie has the sniffles, and Phoenix can now stand on his own," John said, and he smiled proudly.
   "Without holding on to anything?!" I asked, and he nodded.
   "Started doing it yesterday," he added, and I frowned.
   "I miss them," I said, and he rubbed my shoulders.
   "They miss you too, and you'll be home tomorrow," he said, and I nodded, but didn't really feel any better. I was beginning to get despondent, and the nurses were agitating.
   "I feel horrible," I said, and he rubbed my shoulders a bit harder, working out the tension.
   "No one is mad at you," he said, and I looked up at him, and then away. I just stared through the dreary window.
  "Maybe that just makes it worse," I said, and my eyes traveled to the window pane. Dust was collecting, and it made me frown. No one even took a second glance at it, but I stared at it for a while.
   "You can't do this again, you know," John said, and I nodded. They had sent in many specialists to see me, and they all lectured on about the health risks and such that come with an addiction.
   "I won't," I said, but he lectured away anyhow. I let my mind wander, and I didn't really hear him. I half-hearted something about how I need to be a good mother to the kids, but I had heard it all before. I instead tuned into the beeping of the machines and the rhythmic sounds of the hospital.
   "Are you even listening?" He asked, and I snapped out of my trance and focused in him.
   "I heard every word," I assured him, and he could tell that I was lying, but he didn't say anything. I think he got tired of the old charade and just sat down, reading a newspaper that Paul had brought. They had a big part in it, and he was eager to read it.
   "Mrs. Lennon, how are you feeling?" A nurse asked, and I smiled. Even if it wasn't my name, it just felt right.
  "Oh, we aren't together," John said quickly, and my face fell in defeat.
  "Oh, I am so embarrassed, I guess I just assumed. Mrs. Harrison, that's it," she said reading off of my chart, and she could obviously feel the tension she had created.
  "It's okay," I said, and she checked a few of the moniters that I was attached to silently, studying everything intently.
  "Yes, well everything looks relatively normal. Your blood pressure is up a bit, but that could be from stress, I'm guessing. But if everything remains normal, you should be leaving us tomorrow morning," she said with a smile, and I nodded.
  "Thank you," I said, and she nodded and walked away. For a while, nothing was to be heard but my heart rate monitor and John flipping through the pages of his magazine occasionally.
   "The doctors said that you could've died," John said suddenly, and I looked at him. He was still deeply invested in him magazine.
   "Oh," was all that I could say, and he finally closed the magazine, discarding it beside him to look at me.
  "Blaire, can I be honest?" He said, and I nodded, "When that nurse called you Mrs. Lennon, it made me happy. It made me proud to think that someone thought that you were mine. If I'm being completely truthful, I still love you," he said, and my heart fluttered.
  "But that doesn't mean you want to be with me," I finished when he hesitated, and he looked down.
  "Blaire, I don't want you like this. I think you just need some time, to figure yourself out," he said, and I laid back, closing my eyes.
  "I can't figure myself out with you?" I asked, and John sighed.
  "I can't wait for you to love me enough to love yourself. Does that make sense?" He asked, and I kept my eyes closed.
  "Not really," I said truthfully, so he explained it in easier terms.
  "It hurts me to see you like this, and I can't wait for you to love me enough to stop hitting yourself, mentally and physically," he concluded, and I nodded, opening my eyes and looking at the ceiling.
  "I'm so sorry," I said again, and it left a bitter taste in my mouth. The phrase seemed worn, and I was tired of saying it.
  "Rest, Blaire," he ordered, and I turned in my side to face him.
  "Sing for me?" I asked, and he nodded.
  "What do you want to hear?" He asked, and I shrugged.
  "Anything," I responded, anything to keep out the thoughts eating me away in the silence, I thought, but I kept that to myself.
"I don't want to spoil the party so I'll go,
I would hate my disappointent to show,
There's nothing for me here,
So I will disappear,
If she turns up while I'm gone please let me know..." He sang out the melody, and it sounded nice.
  I couldn't help but think that it was about me, at the risk of sounding concieded. He sang it beautifully, pain shown in his voice and displayed in the lyrics.
   I soon fell into a deep slumber, and it was nice. Dreams evaded me, and I was deeply happy about that. I don't think I could have dealt with another dream filled with my monsters.
•••
Sooooooooo I was going to make the song that he sang Norwegian wood, BUT THEN I FOIND OUT THAT IT WAS ABOUT AN AFFAIR and I decided against it. And sorry if I'm putting out too many chapters a day, but we still have so much of this book left, and I'm ready to get to my next projects.