Thirty-One.
I woke up because in an attempt to stretch I'd fallen out of bed. I reluctantly opened my eyes, to find myself in a white, overly hygienic room. It had a strange smell to it to. Disorientated, I got up and tried to figure out where I was. I looked to the bed, and saw Benn, and realised.
I'd stayed with him all afternoon, talking to him, crying with him, not really knowing whether he could hear me or not. But eventually I stopped caring about that and just pretended he could. Sometime at night, I carefully lay down next to him. And when the nurse came in to kick me out, I'd pretended to be asleep. Like I'd hoped, she'd sighed audibly and then left- letting me stay. Then I must've actually fallen asleep, because the sun was out again and I'd just fallen out of bed.
Benn still hadn't moved, and the colour still hadn't returned to his face. Somewhere inside my, I guess I'd had some sort of illusion that I'd wake up this morning and find that it was all a dream. Some sort of illusion that I'd wake up this morning, and he'd be fine. Some sort of illusion that I'd wake up this morning to find him watching me and smiling, like he'd done so many times before. But I woke up and nothing had changed, since yesterday- when everything changed.
I didn't love Benn. But he was a huge part of my life for so long, and we shared so much over the past few years. I'd always have some level of attachment to him; I'd always care for him in some way. I knew no one was going to blame this on me, especially not Benn. But I still blamed myself. After all, as far as I could work out, it was me leaving town that prompted him to go out and do stupid things- and end up here.
Maybe I would've felt better if I'd actually achieved something. I left Benn for a reason, which was to sort my life out and move on. Had I succeeded? Not really, no. But I'd managed to possibly ruin his life in the process. I sat down in the chair next to his bed again, moving it as close as I could and putting my hand in his again. It was so cold and lifeless, it hurt. I bit my lip hard, to stop myself from crying again. This was too much. I watched his face, hoping for some sort of sudden twitch, or any form of movement. I was disappointed, once again, and just focused on the minimal yet steady rising and falling of his chest as he breathed.
I noticed a necklace. I tentatively ran my hand up his chest, and slowly lifted the necklace from underneath his hospital-gown. Something small ran down the necklace, and into my hand. My hand wrapped around the cold metal, I got a feeling I knew what this was. I opened my hand to find I was right.
In my hand, lay a small ring- my ring, which I'd left on Benn's bedside table the day I left him. I couldn't stop the tears anymore. I lay my head on his chest; the ring closely pressed to my face, and closed my eyes.
Maybe, one of these times, I'd open them and it would be okay.
&&&.
I opened my eyes around lunchtime that day, and it still wasn't okay. Benn still hadn't moved, and I was sore and grumpy from spending so much time sleeping on the edge of a hospital bed. I finally realised there was nothing more I could do, so I reluctantly left.
I chose to walk back home, instead of taking the bus. For the lack of anything better to do - and because I really wasn't all that fond of "home" - I lay down in park, the fresh, lush grass lightly tickling me as the sun lay lightly on my skin. I was warming up, slowly. The hospital had been insanely cold, although I think the cold came from within me more so than from the air-conditioning in the hospital being set as ridiculously low as it undoubtedly was.
I turned around onto my stomach and started picking at the bits of grass. I'd pull out a bit, and carefully tear it into tiny, tiny, strips. I always fidgeted when in thought. I didn't want to think about Benn, and I didn't want to think about our relationship in its various forms over the last six years. It only made it harder to try and not picture him again, lying in that bed, like he wasn't ever going to move or breathe on his own again. My mind was at war, as I tried to fight the images- but they just kept coming.
A shadow fell over my head, and I looked to my side. Jordan stood next to me; obviously trying to figure out if I was who he thought I was. When I looked up, he knew, and sat down next to me.
Jordan is Benn's older brother. I hadn't seen him for about two years, because he'd moved to London when he finished school and hadn't really visited since. Benn went to London every once in a while, and I think him and Jordan were pretty close, but they both didn't really get on with their mother, and who knows where their father was.
"Hey, stranger." I attempted a smile, but I'm not sure it worked too well.
"Hey, nice work growing up." He grinned.
I laughed a little.
"I'm guessing you heard about Benn?" he asked, carefully.
"Yeah, Jacqui told me yesterday."
"I thought you would've been the first to know." He raised an eyebrow.
"I don't live here anymore. I came to get some things, and ran into Jacqui."
"Oh. Where do you live now?"
"East Manchester. Moved there a few weeks back. Family stuff was getting too much, I had to move on."
"I understand."
There was an awkward silence.
"Benn said you guys split up. For good this time..." Jordan finally spoke.
I hesitated. If Benn had told Jordan I left him, Jordan would know it was the day that Benn got hit by the car. The reason he was in hospital. And Jordan would have good reason to be very, very angry at me.
"Yeah," I replied, studying his expression trying to figure out his emotions towards me.
"That sucks."
"It just wasn't going anywhere, you know? I had to move on, and I couldn't do that with Benn. I've found out a lot of things I never knew about Mum, and Dad and Kate, over the last few weeks."
Jordan listened quietly and patiently, and as I looked up to him his eyes urged me to go on.
"Benn and I were just trying to pick up what we lost when we first broke up. We were just failing miserably at trying to recapture what we had, and trying to be all we could've been, when it was too late. It just...it wasn't working anymore."
"I get that. It's a shame though; I always thought you two would end up together."
"Yeah, me too."
"So did Benn, I think."
"I know he did." I said quietly, biting my lip.
The conversation was making me uneasy. Jordan was giving nothing away, remaining calm and composed through everything I said. He was acting understanding, but not so understanding that I could be certain he wasn't ripping my head off on the inside. He was being just a touch reproaching, but not so reproaching I could be certain he blamed me for what happened to Benn.
He sensed my edginess, and decided to put me out of my misery.
"I'm not blaming you for what happened to Benn."
"I am."
"Don't be silly, it's not your fault."
"If I hadn't left him, he wouldn't have in that sort of state of mind."
"Yeah, but sober people get hit by cars too."
"They don't jump out in front of them though."
"That's debatable; but not the point. One, we don't know Benn 'jumped' onto the road, per say. Two, what happened is a tragic accident. And it's not your fault. If you don't feel what you used to feel for him anymore, then you were right to leave."
"Maybe."
"Definitely."
Jordan put an arm around my shoulder and hugged me.
"Now come on, I haven't been in town for two years. We're grabbing a bite to eat and some coffee, and you're telling me everything I've missed in good old Stretford."
