Leave A Message || Gallavich

Day four: existing for real

Did you think I died? Probably not, but sorry you had to read that anyway. I thought that you deserved to see what I deal with. See how quickly things escalated? That's life. My life.

But, I'm alive, and I have one more day until I die. You may be disappointed that yesterday was cut short but... things happened. I'm better now. As better as I'll ever get, and I'll make it up to you.

After the incident last night, I did end up meeting with my psychiatrist and my doctor. I told them how I felt --- that I was afraid of dying. They told me that I was going to be okay. That's all. They call themselves fucking professionals when that's how they respond. Pointless.

Onto better things; I got to talk to Mickey. We talked on the phone for a few hours and... I don't know. He isn't the undiplomatic dick that he used to be --- he's really nice to me. I can't get him out of my head, either. Him and his beautiful, super blue eyes. His stupid laugh and insults are the only thing that make me smile anymore. I can't believe it.

Do I like Mickey Milkovich?

"Ian?" Fiona calls my name. Oh right, I forgot to mention that Fiona and Carl came to see me. Debbie, Lip, and Liam are at home.

"Sorry.. I zoned out. I'm just tired, I think." I say.

Fiona just stares at me like I'm some sort of creature and not her little brother. Carl is too busy checking out my IV pump to even look at me.

"Your eyes." She says.

"My eyes?" I ask.

"They aren't green."

I look at her in confusion. My eyes aren't green? They have to be. They're my eyes.

Without clarifying any further, Fiona grabs my hand and squeezes it. I look at her; her long, messy, brown hair and tired eyes. She looks as sick as me. But --- she's always looked this way --- On the verge of death.

"I love you, Fiona. Thank you." I say without thinking twice.

"For what?" She asks.

"For everything. You're the only person who's ever been there for me.. You've never left -- not even when I was losing myself. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

This catches both Fiona and Carl's attention. Carl walks closer to my bed and looks up at me. His hair is cut short and he has a bruised lip from jumping out his window because he wanted to see if he could fly.

"You aren't dying." He says. I don't know if this is a statement or a question, but I do know that it's his way of saying he loves me. I don't think he knows how to actually say it.

"I love you too, Carl. And, before I die, I promise that I'll teach you how to disable a bomb."

"Really?" His eyes light up. No, not really -- he thinks that's what we do in ROTC -- and I won't tell him otherwise. He's happy.

"Before you die?" Fiona interrupts. "What do you mean, Ian?"

All I can do is smile softly. I can't tell her that my life is over tomorrow. "I don't really mean that. I'm getting a lot better." I say instead. She believes it.

"Sorry to interrupt but visiting time is over and it's time for another round of treatment, Ian." Lucille says as she peeks her head in. She came back last night.

"Bye, Ian." Carl waves

"Goodbye." I wave back.

"But, not forever?" He asks. I know this is a question.

"Not forever." I ruffle his hair.

"I'll call you." Fiona hugs me and then the two of them are gone. I probably won't see them again. That hurts to think about.

"Are you okay?" Lucille asks, walking over to my bed and taking a seat beside it.

"Yes." I lie as tears slide down my cheeks. "Actually, no. I'm shit. I'm fucking dead."

"But, you aren't dead." She says.

"Might as well be. Look at me; I can't eat, can't sleep, can barely breath; I'm dead! I don't exist!" I shout, very loud, but at the time I don't care.

Lucille furrows her brows and stares at me. "Ian, you have to have hope."

I laugh a little at this. It's hilarious because all I've ever had is hope and this is where it's gotten me. I throw off my covers and jump out of the bed. "I don't want to die here." I say. "I want... I can't die here! I want to be outside!" I cry.

"You can't go outside. It'll interfere with your treatment."

After I hear what she says, I lose the last amount of hope I had. I can't stop tears from coming out -- my heart hurts a lot. I feel sick and terrible and my heart hurts so much. I cover my face with my hands and sob as hard as I can. It's the ugliest thing you'd ever see -- but I've held in that cry for years. Once it starts, it doesn't stop. I sit on the floor and cry like a baby. A scared baby.

Lucille doesn't know what to say. She doesn't know what to do. How do you comfort a sick child who dies tomorrow? Do you even comfort him at all? She doesn't know, but someone knows. Mickey knows.

"You want to go outside?"

I uncover my face when I hear his voice. He's just standing there as if he appeared out of thin air. I'm still crying when I answer. "I just want to see the sky."

"Let's go then. Why are you crying about it when you can do it?" He asks, reaching out his hand. I take it immediately.

"He can't go outside.." Lucille whispers.

Mickey doesn't care, though. He holds onto my hand and walks my out of my room, I haven't been out of that room in weeks. He takes me throughout the hospital and finally we reach outside. I see the sky and it's as blue as Mickey's eyes. The sun shines on my face and I feel different.

I don't know what to say. I think at the time I may have forgotten how to smile because I cry again. The sun beams off my skin and makes me cry even harder. I haven't cried this hard the entire time I've been here. Not when I found out what was wrong with me and not when I found out I had 5 days left to live. Maybe I didn't exist yet.

I exist now; I exist for real.

Mickey turns to look at me and he smiles. His smile is even more beautiful than his eyes.

"I'm not leaving you again." He says -- or maybe he doesn't. All I know is that I may be dead tomorrow, but I'm alive today.

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