The third floor, cardiology

December 9, 2011 The third floor, cardiology

And how easily they die…

I can see on his face that he is afraid too. His mouth is covered, his hair as well. All the safety measures were taken. They washed their hands, they disinfected their tools. I can only see his eyes, and I can see fear in them, even from this distance, through that small window.

It’s quite cold here. Both windows, at the ends of the hall, are open. There’s draft here. The bench I sit on witnessed so many dramas, was touched everyday by too much pain… And the walls, these dirty walls, gray, scraped by so much time. The hall of thousands of steps. Small and shy steps, hurried steps, cried steps, wet.

I came here alone. I waited for you in front of the hospital after I called you to give you the bad news. You have told me you were going to put something on and come, that I should wait for you, to wait for you for 10 minutes, that I shouldn’t be alone. Alone. You told me I have been alone all my life. I shouldn’t be alone now. Now. Why?

I have waited for you for 10 minutes. It was raining. The first contact with the rain made me shiver. The cold made me cry, but the passers-by didn’t notice my crying. They were indifferent, or they weren’t seeing me because of the thick rain. People are living the drama of their life every day. Why would they care about our life’s drama?

You didn’t come, not even after 25 minutes. I entered the building, the door made a violent sound. Then, the silence… Similar to the one I often find in the cemetery. This silence made me feel so alone. I called you again.

And I’m waiting for you to come. The doctor said he’ll do whatever he can, but he doesn’t give her many chances. The nurses look at me with pity, and pity, pity I don’t want!

I call you again:

“She- the Love”, because she is the one we talk about, “stays in the doctor’s hands, my dear. It seems we didn’t give her much importance, or care, and she felt it. She tried to kill herself slowly, she almost succeeded. Happily I came back earlier from Indifference and I found her this way… My dear, what if… what if…?”

I look at her through the small cracked window. Not so much time ago, she was little, but how fast they grow…And how easily they die.

(3rd of September, 2010)

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Tags: death, fiction, indifference, love, memories, personal, relationship, writings

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• Posted under 2006-2010, Life, love, People, Writings