The Beginning
It was cold, the day I came back. I hadn't seen him in three years. We e-mailed a lot, and in the beginning, we phoned on weekends - the phoning eventually stopped, but the e-mails didn't. That is, until I got sick.
I don't think anyone's really sure exactly what and how it happened. But it did. Some rare form of pneumonia or something like that, with feverish delirium that led eventually to a coma. They say it was four days, but, for all I know, it could have been a lifetime.
Anyway, I got better. Except for the weight I'm still trying to gain. And my skin is still pretty pale, not too bad anymore, but still.
Michael says now that I came back to him a ghost. Maybe that's why everything's so different, between us, I mean. But anyway...
It was disappointing, driving up to the Bridge's familiar house and not seeing his car. It had just stopped raining. I guess I just assumed he'd gone again. Having missed his college graduation while I was in the hospital, and I know he was planning on more education eventually, I couldn't have blamed him. Because I lied to him, too. I told him I was going to visit places we'd talked about since we met... But I was really getting sick.
I didn't want him to worry, he was doing so well in all his classes, and I knew concern for me would eventually take it's toll - and if he found out details of everything that was happening to me...
Anyway, it was like a movie when the door opened. I, Marie Lancaster, was prepared to fake a smile and be happy for Mrs. Bridge - even though I was really near devastation because of his absence - when Michael's face appeared.
At that moment, I loved him more than I had ever never told him. He looked so perfect, and surprised; he was taller than I remembered, his face framed in big curls so dark that they reflected the blueness of the rainwashed world that separated me from the amber warmth of this, the Bridge residence. I wished he would catch me up and carry me in, but, of course, Michael would never do that - even if he thought of it.
All I could say was "hi." I think he had started to say hello, but his expression changed when he saw that it was me.
"Hey..." he said softly, his voice as warm and smooth as I remembered. It was almost better than if he had carried me, just hearing Michael's voice again. "Well, come in, come on! Yes, I know, you like it— but it's kinda cold."
He hadn't really changed.
I don't think anyone's really sure exactly what and how it happened. But it did. Some rare form of pneumonia or something like that, with feverish delirium that led eventually to a coma. They say it was four days, but, for all I know, it could have been a lifetime.
Anyway, I got better. Except for the weight I'm still trying to gain. And my skin is still pretty pale, not too bad anymore, but still.
Michael says now that I came back to him a ghost. Maybe that's why everything's so different, between us, I mean. But anyway...
It was disappointing, driving up to the Bridge's familiar house and not seeing his car. It had just stopped raining. I guess I just assumed he'd gone again. Having missed his college graduation while I was in the hospital, and I know he was planning on more education eventually, I couldn't have blamed him. Because I lied to him, too. I told him I was going to visit places we'd talked about since we met... But I was really getting sick.
I didn't want him to worry, he was doing so well in all his classes, and I knew concern for me would eventually take it's toll - and if he found out details of everything that was happening to me...
Anyway, it was like a movie when the door opened. I, Marie Lancaster, was prepared to fake a smile and be happy for Mrs. Bridge - even though I was really near devastation because of his absence - when Michael's face appeared.
At that moment, I loved him more than I had ever never told him. He looked so perfect, and surprised; he was taller than I remembered, his face framed in big curls so dark that they reflected the blueness of the rainwashed world that separated me from the amber warmth of this, the Bridge residence. I wished he would catch me up and carry me in, but, of course, Michael would never do that - even if he thought of it.
All I could say was "hi." I think he had started to say hello, but his expression changed when he saw that it was me.
"Hey..." he said softly, his voice as warm and smooth as I remembered. It was almost better than if he had carried me, just hearing Michael's voice again. "Well, come in, come on! Yes, I know, you like it— but it's kinda cold."
He hadn't really changed.
posted by Allison at 9:47 PM
