Somethings Never End

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bonds that can't be broken, somehow come to an end...

Submitted: December 28, 2011

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Submitted: December 28, 2011



"Do you think I could see her?" 

No, its probably not a good idea.

"Why Not? I mean, I came all this way.. "

  She would want to see him. You know that.

Does that really matter, I mean.. look where we are! She's in a fucking comma. She's not seeing anyone.

"So, I mean... If she's not awake, whats the big deal?"

 He's right. She won't even know he's been here..

Fine, but if she wakes up..

"I'll come and get you. Right away."

The door closes behind him, and the machines beep another second of life away. Its only keeping track of her heart rate. She's not dying. No more than anyone else, he has to remind himself of that. He's glued, though, in front of the door. He knew that she was here, of course. That's why he has come. But, it didn't sink in until he saw her. Even though it isn't her.

She doesn't look like herself. She's been here for two weeks, before anyone let him know. Two fucking weeks, and already she looks like she's lost thirty pounds. Which isn't to say she looks like a rail. Even if she were here another two weeks, she could still stand to lose another fifty, or so, pounds. She's grey. Not even white. Her hair is a mess, and she doesn't breath the right way. Its not her. He doesn't want it to be her.

There is a noise behind the door, and it breaks his spell. He walks over to her bed, learns down and kisses her forehead. It reminds him of leaving for work in the morning; though he hasn't kissed her forehead before that trip in over a year. Some things are just hard to shake. He sits down in the chair next to her bed, and holds her hand.

"Hey Becca.. It's me, Seth. Guess there's a lot to say.", he stifles a laugh, not because this is funny but he knows he will actually miss the way she used too interupt him. "Anyway.. I'm still working down at the factory. They actually just gave me a raise, last week. I told them my little sister is in the hosptial, for the leave. A white lie they'll never know no different.They gave me a week...", he goes on about his life, and the changes that have been made. All the while, she lays there as if she's already dead. Its the silence that gets to him, more than the coldness of her palms. They were always cold, compared to his, anyway.

"I don't know why they waited so long to tell me. I guess they thought after you'd left that I didn't care. Guess you really didn't tell them as much as I thought you would. They still treat me well enough. 'Cept in not telling me, and not letting me in here.. but, I can understand.

Bec, you can't do this. You can't just lay here, and let me go on. I'm running out of things to say, and I'm not ready to leave yet. I want you to open your eyes, and look at me in the same old way. I know its not fair, after all that happened.. after all I've said.. I just.. Damn it, Becca, I just didn't feel the same way. That gies you no right to run away, and escape from it all like this. I loved you, girl. Don't you know what that means?

Becca, you're a part of me. I mean.. we've known each other so long, and never really moved on. Why would this time be any different? 'Cept it is, isn't it? You weren't gonna let me in again. You weren't even returning my phone calls, or trying to look my way.", he pauses in silent reflection. He rode a plane for seventeen hours, watching one horrid movie after the next, and its just dawned on him. She wasn't holding on anymore. She had finally washed her hands of him, and was.. Was actually doing okay.

He squeezes her hand, and ignores the tears falling from his eyes. He leans down and kisses her brow, one last time. "I'm gonna go, now Bec. I think they were right. I think I should've stayed at home. Ain't nothing changed, for me. I just.. I had to come and tell you, myself, is all. I still feel some connection to you... Anyway.. I gotta go. Wake up soon.", he doesn't say it. He wants too, but its wrong. Not because his own wife is waiting for him. Its wrong because Becca wouldn't hear it. And, he would never say it if she were awake. Its his burden to carry, and he knows it.

As he walks out the door, the voices crowd around him again.. but he waves them off. He explains that the factory won't hold his job forever. That he would be obliged if they would call him when she wakes up. The number is the same, it hasn't changed. One of the voices gets him to spout it off, anyway. He asks that they not tell her, he stopped by. It'd just complicate things. For her. Their eyes confirm what he had feared- they had no intentions of mentioning he was here. He puts on a smile, and shakes their hands one last time..

In the elevator, he breaks down. He starts to cry, and wants to hurt himself. He's learned, now, that his need to punch things is really just a way to feed the masochist raging inside. Punching hurts, and breaks the skin. It soothes him. Wiping his face, and calming his nerves.. he climbs in the car. He calls Jamie from his cell phone. She's been more than understanding, and doesn't ask when he says that he's only staying tonight. he'll hop on a flight back in the morning. He's turned on the radio in his rental car, while he tries not to think of the woman back at the hospital and the tubes in her arms. Instead, he reminds himself of a look-alike that called his name into the night as they rolled about the bed sheets, and the way she told him the last she seen him.. "I need you..", in a voice so sweet.

And, he finally allows himself to cry it all out. That woman.. the one he remembers so fiercely has already gone, and died. That.. that makes him feel more alone than ever before.

© Copyright 2018 JadAtHrt. All rights reserved.

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