1.24.2016

I saw the tall man with the sleek black car that spits money today. At the hospital. He stood at the desk and talked to the podgy lady you spoke to when I saw you there. For a moment, I was scared. Were you all right? Why was the tall man here without you? Were you in the hospital too? Were you in a hospital bed?

But then you walked around the corner. Your eyes were red this time and glistened at the corners with the shimmering fingerprints of your tears. You wore a baggy grey sweatshirt that drooped on your shoulders. The words “KYLE’S PLACE” were stamped across the front. Who is Kyle and why are you wearing his hoodie? Why were you crying? Please tell me. Why are you in at the hospital if you are not in a hospital bed? Most people come here to visit. Perhaps you are here to visit me.

I wanted to greet you. I actually reached out my hand, stepped towards you like I would wave and say hello. But I didn’t. I had to meet Doctor. Doctor gets upset when I am late to his appointments. He likes to discuss my thoughts, and the way things swirl in my head. I think it is a game for him—one where I tell him a secret, and he tells me a secret back. I saw Chanyeol yesterday, I’d say. Chanyeol isn’t your friend, he’d reply. I don’t think it’s a fun game. Instead I play a different game—one where I try not to tell him about the shadows that stretch across the walls, and if he doesn’t ask about them I win.  They aren’t like Chanyeol. I don’t mind when Doctor asks about Chanyeol. Chanyeol was handsome and had eyes like butterscotch candy. But the shadows—they have no faces. Doctor wouldn’t like them.

Today, Doctor h