2:22pm
I haven't slept since Mark died.
I haven't eaten proper meals either.
Maybe a sip of water and a spoonful of food a day.
I continuously look at the pictures in the photo album that Mark gave me for my birthday.
Look at him smiling in this picture.
Mark used to be right here with me.
I wish I could've held him the night before I lost him. Held him in my arms as we slept. But, I slept on the right, he slept on the left.
I still lay on the right, in hopes that Mark will crawl in bed late at night. To join me, to cuddle me, to warm me.
Give up, Jackson.
That won't happen.
Everything in our house is the same. I won't change a thing. I'll leave it the way Mark likes it.
The doorbell rings.
Who is it?
I hope it's not those annoying interviewers.
Mark's illness somehow became the biggest mystery in the world. Failing organs...no one could ever imagine it.
The press won't leave me alone.
They want articles about Mark's illness. They're making him into an icon of scientific intelligence.
I hate it.
He was a great man. The greatest, kindest man there ever was to walk on this wretched land. Mark was beautiful, aspiring and downright spectacular.
Nothing and no one can compare to him.
The doorbell rings again.
I lift my heavy body out of my bed.
I trudge downstairs and I open the door.
"Good! You're alive!" Dr. Choi smiles.
"You really...came and checked." I stare at my elder.
"Of course. Have you eaten? I got some dumplings." He holds up a plastic bag.
"Not hungry. Bye." I attempt to close the door but he jabs his foot into the doorway.
"You're eating."
"No."
"Jackson!" Dr. Choi grabs the collar of my black hoodie.
"You are going to eat! Look at how skinny you've gotten!" He pushes me into my house.
I fall onto my butt. My hair falls over my face. Dr. Choi enters my home.
"No need to eat."
"You need to eat! It's been a month!"
"No."
Dr. Choi grabs a dumpling and stuffs it into my mouth.
I protest by swatting my arms in the air and kicking him with all my might.
My fist ends up colliding with his cheek. His glasses slide across the floor as I swallow the disgusting dumpling in my mouth.
Dr. Choi begins to laugh.
"I got you to eat." He holds his red cheek in his hand.
"Those muscles aren't for show." He wipes the blood from his busted lip. He stands up.
"Mark loved your muscles." He drops the bag of dumplings by my feet.
"Eat the damn dumplings." Dr. Choi looks at me hopelessly. He's given up.
He exits the house.
I stare at the bag of dumplings.
A picture of Mark on the foyer table stares back at me.
He's smiling. He's happy.
He wouldn't be happy if he saw me now.
I rub my thinning arms.
The bag rustles as I grab a dumpling.
I eat all of the tasteless dumplings. They're kind of salty...
No.
That's my tears. My tears are salty.
Mark loved my muscles.
He once told me to never lose them.
I guess....I'll eat.
For Mark.
