Darling & Foster

Twenty-Seven

No one came to visit me for the next few weeks. I don't remember moving, or breathing. The nurse would come in and ask if I wanted the tv on. I didn't. I wanted to stay in the same frame of mind I was in when I last heard Foster's voice. I wanted him to tell me that things would be okay. I could almost hear him say it. I could almost feel the warmth glistening on my skin. 

He never came to see me again the whole time I was here. They'll discharge me tomorrow and I can go back to not eating and holding my breath around every living thing. 

"Darla," The nurse. 

"I really don't want anything right now."

"For you," I opened my eyes and the nurse was holding a piece of paper. It looked like it had been crumpled and straightened out again a thousand times. I could see the pen markings showing through the translucent paper. I felt my stomach roll over. I knew it was from him.

She laid it on the cart next to me and I almost didn't touch it. But my fingers and my feelings got stingy. It was so hard to read but I wanted to make out every letter. Every word. Every thought he had.

: "I'm sorry about before. Everything before. What I did and what I said about what I did. I've never met anyone like you, Darla. It scares me. You look & speak like you're walking on sunshine but the pain in your eyes is remarkable. It's like you turn everything you touch into sugar. Including me. That day in the hall, when you reached for my scars, you didn't even think twice and you didn't stagger or nod your head in shame of seeing something so ugly. You just embraced me. And I melted. I vanished into thin air. Now all I think about is kissing you and touching you and healing you and telling you about how much I want to. And when you come back, when you see me in the hall, keep walking. Keep walking straight into your beautiful future. Don't look back."