10 | in which he orders pizza

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I am waiting for the day when I will be able to look at him,
And smile,
Because I'll be stronger than he ever thought I was.
Because I survived.

.\.|./.

Ryan Falls

|in which he orders pizza|

Maybe people are right — I have gone crazy.

Not only have I developed a strange peace with my injuries, but I'm perfectly happy being stuck in bed. It gives me an excuse to not go out, and though I hate the trouble I'm causing Olivia, I could get used to being stuck indoors for a lifetime.

One thing I am sick of is Olivia's terrible cooking. Not to be ungrateful or anything, but the amount of water she adds into everything is insane. I'm pretty sure the girl even adds water to French fries. Why else would the potato sticks be that soggy?

I don't say a thing to her, not wanting her to feel unappreciated. With work and her boyfriend and managing her own life, Olivia is already doing too much for me. The last I want to do is seem ungrateful, especially since she's cooking for me and still taking me to my doctor's appointments.

"I might not be able to come over tomorrow," she says to me, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "You sure you'll be okay on your own? I can ask Ted to check up on you."

"I'll be fine, Olive, don't worry about it. I'm better now."

It's the truth, I'm much better. Although my leg still feels like a boulder has been tied to it and is weighing me down, not to mention the continuous pinprick feeling that I am beginning to get used to. Yes, it sucks that I haven't been able to bathe properly in a week, but the crutches allow me to go to the bathroom on my own when I need to.

At least I'm not peeing in bed.

Thinking about the up-side of things does help. When my therapist first told me to 'think of all the good things in life' and 'be positive', I wanted to rip his walrus mustache off. Now that I think about it, being miserable isn't really any good after all.

"Ted won't mind," Olivia says, looking embarrassed.

She hates having to leave me alone, but I hate that she feels like she shouldn't. I can take care of myself. Always have.

"I know, but I mind him driving all the way here to just ask me how I'm doing, when my answer will be the same — I'm fine!"

My grin doesn't convince her, but she sighs nonetheless.

"Okay. But you better keep your phone on. I'll be calling every hour to check up on you." She points a finger at me and narrows her eyes like she suspects me to do God-knows-what.

I want to laugh. The worst thing I could possibly do in my current state is masturbate. Honestly, even that sucks.

One, because I'm right-handed, and with my wrist broken and in a cast, things just aren't as easy as they used to be.

Two, because I can't really clean myself, and smelling like I just fucked myself isn't a good idea, especially when the only two people seeing me these days are my sister and her boyfriend.

So, yeah, even masturbation is a big no-no.

I lay in bed like a king — an incapacitated king at that — while Olivia grabs her purse and coat and heads over to the door.

"Take care, Ry," she calls over her shoulder.

I just smile and wave, sighing when she's gone. I lean back in my pillows, wishing I could actually tell her how much everything she's doing means to me. Never in my life did I think I would have someone like her around.

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