New Year - Sequel to Mistletoe

April 24, 2015

Patrick

Things had gone pretty much back to normal after five or six days, though I still didn't eat much. However, thanks to my visit at the hospital and Ryan's constant 'mama bear' act, I now weighed over 120 pounds. I was getting better, slowly but surely.

I came out of my room more often, and Brendon, Ryan and I joked around more often. My arms were still ugly, I still had dark circles under my eyes and my fingernails had yet to grow back fully, but I did feel a bit better. I'd slept a bit better, too.

In the past week, I'd slept for four out of the seven nights, about five to six hours each night. Which was quite a feat, considering I used to never be able to sleep. Brendon, however, didn't stop singing. Sure, he stopped singing at my door at night, since I'd told him about my progress, but now he would randomly sing. I mean, he did have an amazing voice.

I guess he knew that, though. Maybe that's why I would wake up to his loud- though, I have to admit, lovely- singing. He'd always shower in the morning, before everyone else, but the difference this time was his singing woke everyone up. I didn't sing, though. I never felt like singing, and I assumed it would be awhile before I felt like it again.

Ever since I got those random texts, from a number I'd never seen before, I'd been a bit on edge. They'd texted a couple more times in the past few days, but it was all stuff like "go kill yourself" and "why are you still here?". I didn't know who was doing it, and I didn't know why, but I tried my best to ignore it, which wasn't easy at all. I didn't tell anyone about it, even though I probably should've, and I wasn't planning on telling anyone anytime soon.

They were already overprotective now that I'd tried to kill myself, and now they were already watching me closer than ever before. I didn't want them to be more alarmed. I'd already worried them enough, which made me feel like shit.

I contemplated texting Pete, since I wasn't sure if he knew what the texts were about and I had no idea who was sending them. It had to be someone who knew me, or knew one of my friends. I almost texted Pete, then decided that I wouldn't say anything about it, not even to him.

Besides, I still didn't trust him. Not yet. To be honest, I only really trusted Ryan and Brendon, as my friendships with the others had changed since I hadn't seen them in a year. I supposed we were going to hang out soon, though, so I was hoping it wouldn't be too awkward. Especially since Mikey would probably be there, since he was Gerard's younger brother and friends with the others.

Not that the others had taken his side after what happened.

Of course, they didn't hate him, but they definitely gave him the cold shoulder from what Ryan had told me. I mean, Gerard didn't, because Mikey was his brother, but apparently Gerard had gotten into an argument with Mikey once he found out what had happened.

I wasn't excited to see Mikey.

To be honest, I expected him to hate me. He probably did. Then again, I didn't do anything. Not to him, not to Pete. If he wanted to hate me, I was fine with that. Because I hated him. I was just worried that he might start drama or something if we were in the same room, and I wasn't ready to deal with that kind of drama yet.

Everyone had been acting as if I was this fragile thing when I first got out of the hospital, asking me if I was okay and if I needed anything. I hated it. I hated being asked those things, and I hated all the attention. Most of the time, Brendon would come in and save me, but it didn't make it stop. Luckily, it died down a few days after I got out. And besides, I was getting slightly better now, so there were less things about me that were alarming. Which probably helped.

I was glad none of my friends pointed out my appearance when they'd first seen me. Well, except for Josh. But I didn't blame him. He seemed like a pretty anxious person to begin with.

I was just glad I was getting better, even though it was taking awhile.