Over the time… I’ve made acquaintances on my hospitalizations.
We always say we’ll contact each other, never will.
Must be the fact that everyone exits and in a while receive the shock of reality.
Not that fucked up dazed and confused bubble in which they had us.
I see a photo of a guy I met in my last hospitalization.
He read while I read, he studies psychology, he’s a geek.
I fucking liked him since I saw him.
Anyways… I’m fucking nuts, that’s why I’m there.
So I try to hide my crazy self from him as much as I can.
I don’t know how much he saw.
He left about 5 days before me.
I, being fucking nuts, remember imagining him holding me in bed and taking turns in holding each other.
Fuck that shit.
I’m a psycho, ignore that.
I left the hospital… desperate about contacting him.
We exchanged a few words.
Now every time I see him on Facebook I just think about the time we met, when I still had expectations of the hospitalization to work.
“Maybe this will be the time they fix me.”
And I just cry.