Behind Blue Eyes

33

May 7th

It's been one month since I've been inside here. It took me a week until the hospital cleared me for release. It's been nice, honestly. They helped me get through a bunch of stuff I was going through and needed to get off of my chest.

I spent the last month in Rehab. I was asked why I would want to commit suicide. I told them I was unhappy and truly believed I was a worthless fuckup.

They had me in a nice room. Almost like a hotel room, but not quite. The bed I slept in was comfortable, but felt stiff compared to my bed at home.

It's my final day here. I haven't really made any new connections or friends here. Everyone has been nice, but it's too much to make new friends here. An aide comes into my room.

"Hey, hon. How're you doing?"

"I'm OK, I suppose."

"Feeling Ok is better than feeling what you were when you got here, though, right?"

"Yeah, it is." She does have a point.

"Your family is on the way; they'll be here in about ten minutes, OK?"

"OK. Sounds good." She leaves the room.

---

The car ride home is a bit of a drive. The rehab center is forty minutes away from where we live. I have my headphones in and listen to music the whole way home. After they all hugged and kissed me and celebrated my one month in rehab, I politely told them I just wanted to listen to my music on the way back home.

---

We arrive home. They help me with my suitcase and guide me back inside. As soon as we head inside, I head for my room and flop down on my bed. My own bed. It feels so nice being back in it. Hmm. That's an interesting thought: me being appreciative of something being back in my life.

David knocks on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Sure" I say.

He closes the door behind him. "How was it in there?"

"It was OK. Turthfully it was."

"That's good to hear." He scans my face. "You seemed to have healed up a bit."

"I think so." My wounds have been about 70% healed since I first went in. I look less like a freak and more closer to my normal self. He gives me a huge hug and says "I'm proud of you for going through with this."

"Thank you. I'm proud of myself, too."

He stands up, but before he can leave -

"David?"

"Yes?"

"Can you call Paul for me? Have him come over? I wanna see him."

"I already called him" he smirks. "We're one step ahead."

"Good" I smile. "Now get out" I smirk back.

"Alright, alright, jeez."

He laughs and leaves my room. I wish to God I still had Max, but it is what it is. Now, only thing I can do is watch some TV until Paul gets here.

---

Later on, there's a knock on my door.

"Come in" I say.

Paul opens the door. "Hi" he shyly smiles.

"Hi" I smile back.

"May I come in?"

"You don't have to ask" I pat my bed. "Sit down."

He closes the door and sits on the end of my bed. "How are you f-f-feeling?"

"I feel OK. My time in Rehab was definitely well worth it."

"I'm really glad t-t-t-to hear that" He smiles.

"I want you to know that I'm really, really sorry. For everything I put you through those few days."

"It's OK. It's n-n-n-not your fault, hon."

Hearing him call me that restores those butterflies that had been missing for a while. "It is some of my fault. I shouldn't have-"

"Shhhhhhh" he shushes me. "It's in the past. OK?"

"Ok" I smile.

---

Paul is spending the night. Him and I end up lying all over the house, mainly so my parents and David can see that I'm OK. We end up eating a hearty breakfast for dinner. It feels so nice to have a home cooked meal, again. The food in rehab felt recooked.

I feel as If I am 10% better from where I was a month or so ago. It's not 100% and I for sure won't be that way overnight, but this is a nice start.

I threw my pills away. They won't be in my system anymore. And my cuts on my wrists are starting to heal rather quickly, so that's a positive.

As I look up at Paul, I realize that I have someone really special. Someone who won't beat me down, but will always be my biggest supporter, no matter what. Even if my macaroni picture looks like shit, he'll tell me it's the best thing in the world.

My family are undying in their love and gratitude. I cannot thank them enough for all they've done for me. They could've given up on me, and I wouldn't have blamed them, but they didn't. They stuck out for me, and now I'm gonna stick out for them.

I want to stay for awhile. At least 'til I'm 100.