I Just Wanted to be Edgy Too

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Van

"She can't come with us, Van. You know that."

I pressed my phone against my ear harder as I paced the hallway of the hospital. It was dark and visiting hours were over, but I'd stayed in Ellie's room the last two nights, and I'd stay until they told me I couldn't. Bondy left for the night and promised he'd send the lids tomorrow. I needed to see them, all of them, together. I was running on minimal amounts of sleep. Twenty minutes here or there, waking up for more tea and to make sure Ellie was breathing. Tonight I was keyed up over the fact that eventually, I'd have to leave her here, and I didn't want to leave her alone.

I didn't want to leave her at all.

Steve sounded annoyed as I pleaded into the phone. "She needs company-"

"She needs her family, Van. People that can be with her twenty-four seven. People that are familiar. You're going to be recording an album and we both know how you get during that time. You won't be able to dedicate any time to her. Even if you wanted to you couldn't."

I kicked at the floor and let out a long sigh. He was right about that. I was a different person when I was in the studio. Darker. More dense. Uninterested in anything other than the music. I didn't know how to be another way. I didn't know if I could turn that off.

"It's late, can't we talk about this tomorrow? You're not making any sense right now anyway. When was the last time you slept?"

"Today."

"For longer than a couple hours?"

I was silent, searching my memory for the last decent sleep I'd had. I found nothing, just fragments of dreams that I wasn't sure I actually had and moments where exhaustion made everything turn to slow motion.

Steve groaned into the phone. "We're leaving to go home in a little under two weeks. You need to get yourself together. Now."

I leaned my body against the wall and bit my lip. "I'll be fine when it's time to go. I'll be ready to record. I'm two steps ahead of you on that."

"But you're still going to brood around over the fact that Ellie is back in the states."

I said nothing.

"You're going to brood about this anyway, aren't you?"

"Steve...Mate, I'm just worried about her."

"Why?"

"Because she's a good person that's been put into a bad situation. Because she doesn't deserve this. No person does."

"Do you love her?"

"What?" I felt myself stumble for breath.

"I asked you if you loved her, Van."

Did I? No one had asked me that and I hadn't asked it of myself either. I cared about her. I worried about her. I wanted her to be with me. I was writing an album for her, inspired by her. Perhaps it was deeper than admiration. But I didn't chew on the word love often anymore. I threw it around too freely when I was younger. It became a filler word for me. I said it out of habit, said if when I didn't need it, and used it recklessly. It wasn't a word that I connected deep feelings with anymore because I didn't harness those deep feelings very often. This felt foreign to me and I'd been almost everywhere.

"I'll take your lack of reply as confirmation." Steve's voice cut through the phone, breaking my thoughts up into a million pieces.

"I don't know what it is. It doesn't have to have a name. It doesn't have to be anything. I could just care about her. It's just different. It feels different."