Dandelion

A Beginning?

Good whatever-time-of-day-it-is, to you, I guess. I think that's a pretty good way to start a message. So hello, whoever you are. My name is Lily. I'm sorry if I seem rude or off-putting; I'm hurting pretty bad, right about now. It's no fun to write or even move when your entire body looks like an abstract painting of bruises.

I woke up in the hospital two days ago, and since then I don't think there's been ten minutes where someone hasn't been asking if I'm feeling alright or if I need anything. As happy as I am to have people who care about me, because for a long time I didn't, having to repeat the same thing over and over can get a little old. It feels a little like that one episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where the crew is stuck in a temporal loop, and it takes them five or six tries to (spoiler alert) survive. It's an ingenious method too, I just can't come up with a parallel to it in my case.

Alex told you a bunch of stories from the beginning of our relationship, right? I guess if you're here, you want another story, huh? Well. . . I'm sure I can come up with something. The doctors suggest I take up journaling as a method of coping, but I guess they didn't know that I already make a habit of keeping a journal. It was already a plan to keep a written record of my recovery as I progressed, or didn't. How about I just tell you things as they happen? Or immediately after, I guess. Or whenever after that I get a chance. That's exciting, having something to do in this hospital room other than play cards with Alex.

Note my sarcasm.

I'm more bored than old Bilbo Baggins existing in the Shire without any adventure.

But anyway, I can't promise you that my stories will be as good as the ones Alex told you, but I think they'll at least be interesting. I don't know what this recovery is going to be like.

I guess that makes two of us, then.