Heartbreak Hotel (Editing)

Chapter 66: Suicide

Two Weeks Later

I often wondered how people could stand laying in bed day by day, night by night. How could one stand not doing anything for more than an hour. Of course, it's apart of human nature to want to just sit around and watch television or to just listen to music, but after a couple of days that just gets boring. Boredom have accompanied me these past couple of weeks. I mean, I have Michael here, but he's too busy trying to take care of me rather than entertaining me like he would normally do if I was in my regular health. I think I'm fine, honestly. I mean, I'm still lacking all the energy I used to have but that's expected. I was still slightly dehydrated and my appetite act as though it didn't want to pick up anytime soon. I spent most of my time in bed watching television, talking to Michael or writing. Mostly writing. Poetry, songs, my thoughts. I've written so much. It was the only thing I wasn't tired of. Everything else just made me want to scream. Including Michael.

It's a very contradicting feeling. Kind of like my personality. I am so shy, but at the same time I can go on stage and perform as though I'm not aware that there are thousands of people out there watching me. I don't say much, and yet I'm not afraid to speak my mind. Love is very contradicting. There's a point in a relationship where you have to get tired of that other person and just the sight of them makes you sick, but at the same time you know that if you weren't around them you would lose your mind. Especially if you whole world practically revolves around them and you can't eat, sleep, or even breathe without them. See how twisted it is? How can you not want to be around someone. but want to be around them all at the same time? I swear, love is suicide.

I never wanted to fall in love. I never wanted love, and yet I have it, and I depend on it like it's my life. I never wanted to depend on anyone the way I depend on him to keep me safe, happy, and secure. I never wanted to love anyone in any kind of way. So why has my life come to this? Why did I go through so much heartache and pain to come and find something completely opposite and different from what I know. Did he change me? Or did I change on my own, and he just happen to come at the right time? These are the things I found myself thinking about while I spent four days in that hospital room with him next to me; and the things I thought about when I was home and he practically watched over me as if I was a child.

I'm supposed to be in love, but my mind isn't agreeing with the feeling. My heart is, but my mind is not. I'm still trying to process it. What is it? What is love? Whatever it is, it feels like it's laughing at me through the glass of a two-sided mirror. Telling me that that what I thought it was, was not at all what it really is. So it leaves me wondering. Is what my heart feels just fooling around with my emotions? I don't know how to feel, I don't know how to think. It's so very confusing. What is this that I'm living in? Is love something you feel spiritually, or emotionally? What is it?

I was standing in the kitchen early one Saturday night. The floor was cold. The air was cold. Everything around me was just quiet. Michael was in the shower and I had took the opportunity to get and fix food for myself because I felt a little urge to eat. An urge I knew wasn't going to last very long. Anyways, I was staring down at a pot of boiling water with dry noodles slowly become soft by the steam and heat. I was watching the water as is popped and boiled right before my eyes. the steam flowing up in my face. I was staring as though it was the most fascinating thing in the world. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I felt as though I had gone completely crazy the last few weeks. As though all my senses as gone away into an oblivion leaving me with nothing but air in my brain. I felt drained and lost most of the time. Lost in my past memories that often haunted me from day to day. I tried to take them away, but that I was nearly impossible.

When I felt like my noodles were done I took it to the sink and began draining the water out, leaving only a little behind so they wouldn't be too dry when ate them. I was humming to myself, tunelessly as I completed my process, listening to the soles of my house shoes scrap the floor with each step. I took a fork from my drawer and began stirring in my seasoning. It felt good to finally be up and moving. My muscles had gone stiff from sitting in bed day after day. Falling asleep, and then waking up and doing nothing. It was the biggest relief I had. I heard the shower cut off and the shower curtain open as though I was right in the exact room the sound had took place. I knew that he would be in here within a few minutes after he had noticed I was gone. I took a seat down in the chair and poured myself some grape juice. I began to eat while waited.