Misfortunate Molly: Would Heartbreak, Break You?

Chapter 2 Intimate Stranger

I squint his figure into frame. He smiles to me and begins to fade away. The shock forces me to blink him away. I cry out to him again and when I try to follow him to the window, my IV tugs at my arm reminding me where I am.

"Wait." I reach out to a dark room. Am I hallucinating? I curl back into bed and sob myself back to sleep.

When I wake up Monday, it is around 7 am. The beeping persisted at a steady rate. There is someone scuffling around my room. When I look up to see whom, it is, yet again, a different nurse. What am I on number three now? As I go through the interrogation, I notice a tray has replaced my wrappers and goodies from last night, with what I assume to be breakfast. I look over for my daddy and he is not in the chair. Not only is he no longer in the chair but he is absent from my room all together. The bathroom door is open so I know he is not in there either.

Sadness and disappointment slides into my nerves. All of a sudden feel like that little girl who needs reassurance and comfort from her daddy. The broken little girl sitting on the steps as her mom relieves herself from the weight of her family. I always thought that nothing could replace that feeling. Nothing could ever be as terrible as that pain of abandonment. But I was wrong. Very wrong. This inner open wound has replaced all the love and future endeavors that were planned so cautiously and neatly for me and My Love. This right here, it is a different type of pain and it hurts a multitude more. I would trade my mother leaving me once a day for the rest of my life, over having to feel this emptiness for another moment.

"He went home to shower." The newest nurse states noticing me canvasing the room. As I look to her, I receive a sweet smile. I nod to the nurse. "Try and eat a little something and then we will get you cleaned up. Maybe we can get you home today. How does that sound?" I deliver a deadpan smile to acknowledge her and remove my stare from her eyes to the huge purple bruise that is on my right hand where the IV sits covered in tape. I trace the outline of the tape and then the bruise with my finger admiring the bright color under my skin. Beautiful color but trauma to the flesh had to occur for this shade to appear. I begin to slip into my thoughts dismissing the nurse from my presence.

Good, I think to myself. Wait. Is it good? Good to go home? I notice I am second guessing my every thought and feeling. This level of confusion and uncertainty is overwhelmingly tiring. Do I want to go home yet? Am I ready? I know as soon as I leave here, the realization is going to hit me like a ton of bricks.

Whose eyes will I look to find hope and love and understanding? Never to see him smile again. Hear his laugh. Smell his scent. Kiss his lips. Hold his hand. Another conversation will never be had between us. His arms will cease to wrap around me in any situation. No one to waste time and procrastinate with. My study buddy is not going to be there to help me. Who will I watch movies with now? I no longer have a dinner date. Who will bring me peace during my chaos?

My future is over. My life plan is smashed into the smallest fractures of pieces. Nothing will be able to mold my life back into a whole functioning ... thing again. What am I supposed to do now? What am I going to do now? So many questions that I have no answers to. I do not know what I am supposed to do now. How will I survive without My Love?

My life will surely crumble when I leave here. I do not want to be reminded of what I lost, what I caused, what I got rid of. I want to stay empty and plain with only the essentials existing, much like this room. Plain, white, no pictures, no individuality, no reminders, nothing that says, 'Molly you were happy and you ruined it.' Nothing that reminds me of the love lost. I just want to be empty.

While stuck in my thoughts, I realize that I am now eating in a robotic way. Not tasting the food, not enjoying what always brings me joy. I am not even sure what it is that I am swallowing. I do not even think it is me feeding myself. I do not feel my arms and hands moving. I cannot feel a fork in my fingers. And now there is a straw in my mouth but I sense no cup in my hand. This is the weirdest thing. Am I dreaming?