My George

9th May

My George,

it's over... the war is actually over. And i can't believe it.

i don't remember much from after. just that when i woke up, i was stuck for a couple of days, and you weren't there. and i couldn't move, i was buried under stones and rocks and whatever else, but i was in so much pain i couldn't feel hungry. and i just felt the rain dripping out of the clouds through the roof which was no longer there. and i remember calling out for you. screaming and screaming until my throat hurt, but you didn't answer. I couldn't sleep at first. At all. until breathing became so hard it was like i was climbing a hill each time i tried. And i gave up. i'm not proud, but, i did. And then i slept.

i woke up in again St Mungos. it was strange here at first. new people being brought in... pulled out of the rubble or found wandering after the battle, and that's when i was hopeful, that you might still come, but now they've found every one they can, and at this point...

God ... i keep thinking about you... dreaming about you. sometimes they're good, you're happy and we're on the beach, or in our flat, or at the restaurant... or in bed. but other times i'm walking through the bricks and stones and rubble, shouting your name and i can see bodies everywhere, and i try to see if they're alive, if their hearts are beating... and it's horrible, really really fucking horrible. And i wake up as soon as i see you, on the floor, crying and sweating and hyperventilating.

but i can't think about that. you can't be gone. i lie here, in this hospital bed, just thinking of you, and wishing and hoping and praying that you're okay.

i'm numb George. I'm numb again. i know how much you hate that.

please be okay.

i love you, now and forever and always ...

Ipheion xx