THE THREE STAGES OF GRIEF

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Type's eyes fluttered open under the bright lights of the hospital room. He blinked to focus his eyes and immediately felt a pounding headache. His hand went to touch the spot at the back of his head, but a small hand grabbed it before he could touch.

"Don't do that, uncle Type. There's a bandage there," Kanya's concerned face stared down at him. Ram was standing behind her with a supportive hand on her shoulder. He had a worried frown on his face as his eyes took in Type's expression. 

"Sir, the doctor says you don't have a concussion and gave you some pain medication. You just have to rest for the next few days. They said they would discharge you in a few hours."

Type nodded and then winced in pain. Kanya held his hand tightly. 

"I'm okay," rasped Type. 

"You were crying in your sleep," came a voice from his left. Type turned his head suddenly causing him even more pain. 

"Nong Thanya, " Type looked back at Kanya accusingly. Calling your mother on me, seriously?

Thanya shook her head at him with exasperation, but her eyes held real concern. "Don't blame her. She was just worried about you." Thanya chuckled, "I think she likes you more than she likes me."

Kanya just held onto Type's hand tightly with wet eyes. She didn't even bother to deny it. Although her parents were great, her uncle Type was her confidant, the person who gave her the most sound and objective advice, who rooted for her while encouraging her to make her own choices. Maybe he wouldn't be others' favorite because they'd prefer someone softer, but Kanya loved his honesty. He was the best man she knew along with her uncle Tharn. 

Her uncle Type was the reason she was a nurse and had met her Ram. She owed him everything and his heart was breaking and now hers was too. She looked up at her mother and silently pleaded for her to talk to him. Thanya nodded silently. 

"Kanya, why don't you and Ram go talk to the doctor about P'Type's medication?" Thanya asked. The couple left the room and Thanya took Kanya's place beside Type. 

Type stared up at the ceiling avoiding her gaze. He could fool a lot of people, but not her. She'd been there since the very beginning of his relationship with Tharn. Always rooting for them and defending them in front of anyone. God knows not everyone had been accepting of their relationship. 

"You know I miss him too," Thanya started gently. 

"How did you know I cried because of him?" Type said defensively. He was not going to make this easy for her. 

"Because I still cry because of him. When I was acting and traveling all around, sometimes I didn't see him for months. But for you it's different. You've always been together. I can't imagine..."

"No, no you can't," Type said angrily. People say there are five stages of grief, but for Type there were only three: regret, sadness, and anger. Everything they spouted was bullshit. 

"He was my brother," Thanya said as she leaned back blinking back tears. She knew she said the wrong thing when Type's eyes snapped to her face. She braced herself and he didn't disappoint. 

"He was my EVERYTHING!" he snapped. His words got caught in his throat and he blinked hard and fast to calm himself down, but it didn't work. His tears slid down the side of his face and he gave a bitter laugh, "all I have are memories of me calling him asshole twenty times a day and I'd give anything, anything at all to..." Type broke down in tears and Thanya cried silently beside him. 

He didn't cry long before he wiped his face angrily. He turned his face away from Thanya and looked out the window at the bright sun. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. I want to go home."

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