No, I'm Just Delusional (Phan) RE-WRITE IN PROCESS

Wanting To Believe

Dan -

I'm cold but I can't be bothered to get up and retrieve my hoodie from across the room. I have been here for days. I don't know what time or day it is and I don't care. The only time I have left this chair has been to go to the toilet and once when the doctors forced me out of the room. They told me I had to leave and I resisted. I think I even knocked one out. They eventually got me out of the room by telling me that it would help Phil. He's all I can think about. I did it. I can't get it out of my head, the clear, undeniable fact that I killed him.

No emotions other than guilt, anger and reminisce. I hate myself. It's true, to do that to another person is disgusting. To drive them to hurt themselves in that way. I know every single thing I have ever said or done to Phil has been wrong. To verbally abuse someone in that way is disgusting on its own but this, this was extreme. There is nothing more that I wanted to do was cut. It was driving me insane. The hurt and anger I feel towards myself is indescribable. It is like this weight pulling me down to the depths of the ocean. No matter how hard I try to cut it was it stays. I can't breathe, I can't see, I can only hear the pain filled screams of Phil.

But I can't do that. I have to make myself suffer. I sit here next to Phil's bed. He looks so broken. So... dead. He is however alive. The cuts he inflicted on himself, made him loose a lot o blood resulting in him to go into a Persistent Vegetive State. He is alive but thats it. He cannot see, hear, move,smell, taste, he is not physically aware. They say that it was caused by a hit to the head, or maybe even several and the severe blood loss.

It is strange how fast life seems to be going yet at such a slow pace. I feel like I have only been here minutes when in reality I have probably been here weeks. I just sit here. Starring at him. Praying that he'll wake up, that he'll tell me I look awful and I need a shower. I need to see his eyes. To see the blue sapphires that had pulled me from my restless sanctuary. Where all I did was inflict pain. When the paramedics came I went with them straight to the hospital. When we arrived they took Phil away and I went into a state of shock or so they tell me. I don't remember any of it. Apparently I screamed, I just stood there and screamed. I cried and people came to help me and I pushed them away, just like I push everyone away. Then I fell to the floor and didn't move I just passed out. I woke up in a bed across from Phil's and I have been here since, but now I sleep in the chair next to his bed. It might be uncomfortable but it is the least I deserve. 

I haven't heard from Phil's family since the night he ... he hurt himself. Phil's father? Turned up and looked completely drunk off his head. He waltzed up to the nurses desk and demanded that Phil be released because he was fine. When this all occurred I was still in a state of shock but I can clearly remember the way he sneered at Phil's name. It hurt. That this man could act as if Phil was dirt under his shoes like a piece if trash. It was then the I realise that for the past couple of years that is exactly how I treated him, like he was dirt. 

The man refused to pay for any medical treatment and it sickened me to think that he wouldn't help his own son. So I immediately told the nurse when he had left that I will pay and so I gave her my details. She looked me up and down she was pretty and gave me a flirtatious wink. I looked away disgusted. He's dying, dying and all this chick could think about was getting fucking laid! I stormed away and lay down on my bed and cried. 

However I did see a boy around the age of 7 come in and hug Phil. The little boy started to cry and I went over and gave him a hug. I knew I shouldn't, seeing as I was the one who caused all of this but I couldn't help it. I asked him where his mum was and his face turned cold and looked away. "She doesn't care." I remember him saying and it broke my heart. That this little kid, a child had said that, with no emotion. I later found out after buying him a chocolate milk that he is Phil's brother. It was then that I realised what deep shit I was in.

He told me that his name is Alex and that Phil was his hero. Then he started to cry again and asked me why Phil wouldn't wake up. I told him that he would be just has to believe. I knew I was only getting his hopes up and that there was only a 10% chance that Phil would wake up and even if did, he would be different. I wanted to believe myself, so bad, I almost did and then I looked over at him laying in the bed. He had a dozen machines hooked up to various parts of his body. I wanted so badly to believe. 

He looked up at me through his tear strained eyes and told me that I was brave. I laughed and said " You're the brave one little guy, I admire you. You're very smart, Phil must be proud." He just nodded and curled into my side falling asleep. 

It feels like that happened a millennia ago. 

My mother calls me everyday and suddenly acts like she cares. I don't even think my parents know why I'm here. My mum comes in and gives me food only leaving when I'm finished. My father hasn't said a word to me and I don't know what to think. My mum told me that I need to leave the hospital and it is unhealthy to say here any longer. But she doesn't understand. It's my fault.

She says I need to go to school people are becoming suspicious and that I'm hurting my reputation. I couldn't give a flying fuck what anyone other than the doctors, Alex and Phil say. Then again it's not like Phil can talk. Yet again I feel the weight pulling me down and this time I don't stop it I don't deserve to live. 

I want to drown to stop for it to end. But that would be to easy wouldn't it? To just let go and forget every thing I have done to him. The time we choked him with a child's skipping rope so hard that he passed out and didn't come to school for days or the time we tried to bury him alive in the playground. There are so many memories that I want to forget, but they will always be logged in my head, I can't hide the horrors of my past.

I close my eyes knowing it will do no good. I open them only moments later as more memories invade my mind. The look I Phil's face when he saw us every morning, the bruises that covered his face every morning when he came to school, the pain filled eyes as we walked away. Those eyes. The ones that I wanted so badly to open and look at me.

I want them to open, to see the sincere regret I have for him. I want him to see how I feel. That no matter what I have done in the past that yes I am gay and yes I am falling for him. I don't understand how something so good can be ripped away from me so easily. 

I cry, because that is the only thing that I can do, cry. I'm so helpless. There is nothing I can do and I doubt there is anything the doctors can do. To take someone's freedom, their senses, their family, their life. I want him to get up and laugh at me for crying. Say that it is all a nightmare and that he is alive and he sees how I really feel. I want to tell him the first time I realised I liked him and I want to tell him how much it hurt me when my... those people hurt him. I can't even classify them as people anymore let alone my friends. I want to tell him how hard it was for me to walk out, how much I felt or him and that I was scared for myself, how I was scared of what my father would think, of what he would do. But I'm not scared anymore, only for him.

I want to tell him how much I want him next to me. Even if he hates me I will always feel something towards him. He changed me and I don't know, I can't imagine life without him. As little time as I have really known him for, I know that I do feel this way and that it is the realist thing I have ever felt in my life.

I want him to open his eyes and tell me that it is alright, that he's going to be ok. I want him to be ok, I need him to be ok. I can't stop these feelings and I just want to believe.

Believe that he's going to be ok.