Take This To Heart || ImmortalFox

1. Walk On Water Or Drown.

"You got here just in time to let me know I was worth saving. It's nothing more than for the heart. Too proud to breathe, but I'm too scared to say the things worth saying. Who knew this trip would be this hard?

As I'm looking to the sky to count the stars, I wonder if you see them where you are. I'm down on both my knees and pray tomorrow brings no pain."

---

Eddie's Point of View

I didn't necessarily like the Men's Cancer Support Group that this bleak Colorado hospital had to offer. The way the nurses and doctors had treated us made it all feel more like a mental institution than a place for help. And the rest of the guys here had all been thrust into the same situation I had. None of us asked to be diagnosed with cancer, and none of us actually wanted to meet twice a week to talk it out, either.

The men there were nice. We all shared a common thought; "This isn't going to make any of us any better."

Regardless, the staff who managed the Ward still pulled us together, knowing that it wouldn't do us any good. Instead of forcing us together for half an hour like they did, they should be caring for our diseases. Not our relationships with the other patients. 

The main reason why I had been so on edge about the Support Group was not exactly for these reasons, although they fueled some of my distaste for it. In reality and actuality, I was just afraid of losing any of them. So I strayed away from it all as much as possible and avoided really speaking at meetings. I can't call these men friends if I know I'll just watch them die or leave the hospital cured.

This has happened for too many times for my liking.

"Eddie," I hear a faint knock at my door and one of the nurses pops her head into my tiny little room "do you need anything?" She asks, a tone in her voice so sweet it would rot your teeth out. I remain mute and lost in my own thoughts, shaking my head in reply.

She nods and adjusts the clip holding her hair in a tight bun on top of her head, then she opens her mouth like she's about to speak again. Furrowing a brow, I give her a questionable glance that could only mean confusion.

"I know you don't like going, but it's Friday, and the Support Group is meeting again today." She bites onto her lip, smudging red lipstick on her teeth. As she backs out of the room, she mouths an apology. I know she shouldn't be sorry, it's not her fault I have Lymphoma and this hospital has a hell of a way to force us to make friends.

"Whenever you're ready." She speaks rapidly and shuts the door as she leaves. It makes no sound as her foot slips from the doorway.

I sigh, throwing my head back. She isn't wrong; I hate the meetings. But I go to them as if I have a choice. Glancing at the clock above my bed, I realize that I have roughly ten minutes before I have to leave, and her final words reply in my mind like a broken record. 

Whenever you're ready.

Bullshit, there's a time set for everything nowadays, just like clockwork.

Pulling myself out of the bed, it creaking beneath my weight, I shift, stand, and drag myself towards the mirror hanging loosely on the wall  opposite to my bed. Staring at the reflection, I see a man with pale skin and dull eyes. Five years ago, before the diagnosis that ruined my life, I saw a tan man with the brightest eyes and a smile always on his face. He had a happy-go-lucky attitude and found laughter in everything, with a stiff posture and confidence in the way he walked.

If I saw him today, I know I wouldn't recognize him.

So instead, the man staring back at me I know isn't who is in my heart. I'm still that person I was years ago, but the person in the mirror is depressed, dull, boring. He can't be me, it can't. I won't allow him.

I don't bother trying to dress this morning, so I stay in my plain hospital gown. It's pastel blue and falls to my knees, with white socks to match. I wrap my cold fingers around the I.V. stand and drag the fluids behind my heels. The room where we normally meet is just down the hall, so it's not like it's a very long walk that causes much effort. I loathe it anyway. 

Other than myself, there's six other men who regularly meet here. 

There's Seamus O'Doherty, whose the eldest of the group. A short, thin, blond Irishman with blue eyes. Despite his heritage, he's usually very quiet and stays in the back of the room most of the time. According to his doctors, he has a form of Esophageal Cancer, which may or may not be the reason behind his quiet demeanor. It may also be the knowing that the survival rate for such cancer is low.

James Wilson Jr. is one of the friendlier and louder, per se, members. He's friends with all of us in some way, which would ultimately be his downfall if anything horrid were to happen to I or the others in the Group, or he himself. Not saying I'd prefer that situation. He says he has beginning stages of Laryngeal Cancer, giving him a little bit over 50% chance at surviving. Being as strong as he, I'm aware that this is highly possible.

Jordan Matthewson is another one of the quiet members, but he socializes more than Seamus. He's friendly, but keeps to himself, for obvious reasons. It seems as if he's always been anxious, ever since he was diagnosed. He's got Hodgkin Lymphoma Cancer, similar to the generic Lymphoma that I have. His disease is early on, and the survival rate is quite high, a better chance than me, that is. Even knowing this, Jordan is scared and depressed. His wife is normally at the Ward to console him.

Daniel, or Dan, Gidlow is one of our more recent patients to join the Cancer Ward. I don't know much about him, though he has general cancer and the same personality as Seamus. He's quieter and strays from the group.

Steven is another more reserved member of the group, though being part of it for the longest. He's been diagnosed from a very young age, and I'm sure he as well as the rest of us knew he probably wouldn't live through the disease. He has Kidney Cancer, and a low survival rate. He still remains happy, though symptoms of depression litter his expression.

Nick is the last of the members, and like Steven, has been around longer than the rest of us. He's also louder and does more speaking the the others in the group, and he doesn't let the Eye Cancer he'd been cursed with ruin that. He's gentle, though built broadly. He's who helped me settle in, and the only one I'd consider to be a friend. And though most Eye Cancer patients don't survive too long without proper treatment, he will most likely walk out of this hospital someday. 

As I sashay through the double doors of the meeting room, I'm met with seven men. Six of those whom I've been seeing for years, and one new face. He has messy brown hair and dark eyes, pale - just like the rest of us, but tattoos covered one arm. He also seemed to be smiling. That was something I knew I wouldn't see too often, so I tried my best to indulge in it. 

"Eddie, you're late, fucker." James says from across the room. I don't give him a second glance, I'm just focused on the boy speaking with the others.

He's smaller than the rest of us, other than Steven and Seamus, he could only be a bit taller than them, and he barely notices me when I stride into the room. The only reason why he looks at me twice is when James had shouted in my direction. I almost cringe.

"Eddie, right?" he states, and I nod, wordlessly. "I'm Aleksandr, or Aleks." 

He has a light-hearted expression and tone to match and I can't help but to smile back at him. Although being in the location he is now, I wouldn't think he'd have cancer. He doesn't look ill, which may be why the other men have unnerving looks on their faces. If it wasn't for the same gown I'd been wearing, as well as a few others, I'd think he was just a visitor. 

Regardless, he was attractive, and I know I shouldn't be getting too attached to someone I've just met. I couldn't seem to tear my eyes off of him.

---

"And then I fell into pieces and she fell into me, saying, 'Play me a song. It's been too long since I've heard you sing.'"