𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲; byler

- 𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓇𝓎 14 -

𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 I got to my room. 

Somehow I'm on my bed, still crying so hard I can't hear anything else. I feel the presence of someone else in the room, see their shadow, but I don't know who it is. And I couldn't care less.

I grab a pillow from my bed, hugging it as tight as I can.
"She was my best friend!" I cry out to nobody in particular, "She was my best friend and I never got to hug her!" hugging this stupid pillow isn't enough, It wasn't enough when she was here, and it definitely isn't enough without her.

I scream out and throw the pillow on the ground.
"It's not fair!" I cry, "It's not fair it's not fair it's not fair-"

I know I'm making a full of myself. I know I must look like a ridiculous toddler, but again- I couldn't care less.

That's how the day passes. I don't eat, I don't talk. I just cry. I listen to Nurse Nicole explaining to me she passed yesterday afternoon, at 4:23 pm. I listen to her telling me that the funeral is in a few hours but she's so sorry and I just can't attend since it's an hour away and my health just doesn't allow it.

I don't care. She won't be in the funeral, not really. I just cry. And when I cried so much I literally don't have any more tears, I fall into the most uneasy sleep ever-

- Which I wake up screaming from after what couldn't be more than an hour.

"Shh... it's okay... It's just a bad dream..." I hear. I look up, and it's Mike. Sitting on my plastic chair, with a doctor's mask covering his mouth and gloves on his hands. He must have been the figure from before.

"Mike? You can't be in here!" I exclaim, but he shushes me again. 
"It's okay. I got the okay from Doctor Miller." He says softly, and I don't have the energy to argue. I fall back asleep, waking up every few minutes.

Every time I wake up, Mike is still there.

                                                                                   ✏ - - - - - - - - - -- - -

Three days later I finally agree to eat something. Two more, and I take a shower and change my clothes. After a week, I get out of my room.

9 days later, I laugh at a joke Mike tells me. But I feel like there's something different about my laugh now: a new hollowness, something that was never there before.

It hurts more than anything, but life goes on. It has to. After exactly 27 days, I'm back to my regular schedule. Back to joking with the nurses, filling out charts and reading Harry Potter.

 My lung function took another hit, and now stands on the not-so-good 31%. That means even more pills, and more therapies, and not taking off my breathing tube almost at all. I don't tell Mike about this- he'd just worry.

If I was alone, I don't know how I would of ever gotten any part of my life back again. But Mike is there, and Mike is with me every second he possibly can. Mike talk to me like everything is normal, and helps me when I feel like I can't take it anymore. 

Another month passes, and I feel even guiltier. 

Because in many ways, that second month is the best month of my life. 

Because I get to spend all of it with Mike.

"you shouldn't feel guilty for living your life," a therapist had told me at a hospital mandated session.
I know he was right, but it's just- every time I have lunch with Mike and feel completely happy, I feel guilty. How can I feel happy again after she's gone?

It's hard to remember that, however, when I realize I have Mike.

Mike is perfect.  He lets me stick with my schedule, joins me on every activity and every exercise. Even when we have to do our therapies alone in our rooms, we're Face Timing.  I feel like  at this point, Mike knows me better than anyone who's alive.

In many ways, I feel like i'm staying alive for him. After everything, he's my rock. He listens, he distracts me. And the funny thing is, I'm pretty sure I do the same for him.

It's weird, being in a romantic relationship with someone without actually being able to touch them at all. It's hard. I want to cuddle with him, I want to kiss him. I want to walk around with him in the hospital, holding his hand. It's really tough.
But at the same time- I'm glad I didn't go further with Brady. Even with all the hardships, I'm so happy with Mike it's kind of scary.

I can be sad one minute and extremely happy the next. It's a tiring roller coaster, but whenever I look at Mike- I think that just maybe, everything will be good.

                                                                                                                      - 𝒲𝒾𝓁𝓁